


What Would Klimt Do

by Samshine_and_Lollipops



Series: Art School [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Artist Sam Winchester, Awkward Sex, Binge Drinking, Bottom Gabriel (Supernatural), Crack, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Frottage, Graduate Student Castiel (Supernatural), Homophobia, Humor, Janitor Gabriel (Supernatural), Life Drawing Model Gabriel, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaking, Mechanic Dean Winchester, POV Ellen Harvelle, POV Sam Winchester, Porn with Feelings, Prank Wars, Pre-Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Panic Attacks, Secrets, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Top Sam Winchester, Voyeurism (sort of), Webcam/Video Chat Sex, gagging for practical reasons, mature student Sam Winchester, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-08-11 08:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 77,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20150968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samshine_and_Lollipops/pseuds/Samshine_and_Lollipops
Summary: Sam Winchester is a final year Art student struggling to find a theme for his senior project whilst juggling a new relationship with the very persuasive, sexually adventurous life model Gabriel. His past still haunts him, but Gabriel's wild nature and crazy ideas have his head in a spin in the very best possible way.Gabriel has been coasting through life recently, trying to ignore his crappy upbringing and running three jobs to pay off crippling student debt. When Sam walked into his life drawing session a little over two months ago, Gabriel made it his mission in life to seduce the young artist and now he's finally succeeded, he's definitely going to make the most of it.(Destiel is very background. Sam is a relatively mature student)‘“What... are you... doing,” Sam grits out between clenched teeth, as he tries to swat Gabriel’s hand away...After a few seconds, Gabriel makes a triumphant noise, and pulls out a folded dollar bill. Sam attempts to throw him a bitchface, but there’s no stopping him now, he’s clearly on a roll.“Hmm this’ll do,” he proclaims, throwing open his robe, and looking down the length of his body at his groin. “There’s never a G-String around when you need one.”’





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: New sketch/illustration added to chapter 6. Not supposed to be Sam's work, but thought you might like anyway!
> 
> Real life drawing is absolutely nothing like this. There's nothing sexual about it... usually. But...
> 
> This fic started life as a little porny plot bunny that I couldn't get out of my head. I don't know if you've ever picked up a book on Gustav Klimt, but whoa, yeah. Ever since flicking to that page in a public library, I couldn't help but get crazy Sabriel based ideas, because if anyone's going to suggest such a thing, it would definitely be Gabriel. Once I started typing though, this thing took on a crazy life of it's own. I know the ending, but I'm kind of letting the characters guide me through the middle and they have lots of wacky, often porny ideas.
> 
> This is my first Supernatural fic and I haven't written anything since the good old SGA days. I hope you enjoy it and apologies for the inevitable British-isms that will have crept in.
> 
> Please excuse borrowing of nicknames from previous fics. I tried to throw in one or two of my own making, but those out there in the fandom were just too good not to include. I've been reading so much I have no idea where I originally got them, apologies.
> 
> Most of the characters listed are pretty background and won't appear until much later.
> 
> EDIT: Complete!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is complete and utter smut with a smidge of angst and a side of kind of cracky humour. I hope you enjoy it.

Sam tries to calm his nerves by focusing on the task at hand, sorting through and organising his materials. His hands are shaking a little as he places the charcoal at the front of the table, nearest his easel. The sleeve of his shirt catches a long handled brush and he has to grab for the jar quickly before it topples over and upends the water pot sitting next to it.

God this is _crazy_. He doesn’t know how Gabriel actually talked him into this. But then again, Sam thinks that at this stage, Gabriel can pretty much talk him into anything. They haven’t even slept together yet, _technically_, but after the meandering journey they’ve taken to get here, Sam is so utterly smitten, so utterly under Gabriel’s spell that yeah… even the most out there, ludicrous plans seem like a fabulous idea.

_Deep breath Sam, deep breath._

He feels a little calmer, maybe. Ellen has given him permission to be here. He has a lot of catching up to do after all and much to Sam’s amazement, and Zachariah’s intense irritation, she seems to see him as her star pupil.

That said, when she gave him a special pass to work after hours in the life drawing room, he’s pretty sure she didn’t have this in mind. _Fuck_. This could get him thrown out. Or maybe, just maybe, he would finally find himself on the right track, finally find a focus for his final year project.

It’s _goddamn_ risky as hell, but Gabriel had been so persuasive, using words like _bold_ and _revolutionary_, and saying things like _Fuck Sammy just think of Zachy’s face_, and as he saw Sam’s resolve start to crumble _Come on, it was good enough for Klimt. He knew how to stick the proverbial finger up at those puritanical bags of dicks._ Sam had snorted out a laugh at Gabriel’s enthusiam and colorful turn of phrasing, causing the librarian to give him a look that could burn demons from the bodies of the posessed, said _Maybe_, and checked out the book.

And now they’re here. Because when Gabriel’s involved, _maybe_ quickly escalates to _I guess_, following swiftly on to _Fine ok, I’ll do it._

Sam clips a large sheet of paper to his easel and places a few spare sheets within easy reach. He checks he can see the chair comfortably when he stands in front of it, adjusts the angle a little. Right he’s ready, as ready as he’ll ever be. He runs a hand through his hair, nervous habit, blows out a breath and…

His breath catches in his throat and he swallows hard as Gabriel appears from behind the screen, wearing nothing but his robe. Sam watches him nervously as he pads up to the chair in bare feet.

They talked about this beforehand. If Sam was going to do this, then they had to treat it like any other life class. No chatting, no fooling around, no strip tease (_No really I mean it Gabriel, you think I can concentrate like that?_). Gabriel had pouted a little, but agreed that he’d strip off his janitor’s uniform behind the screen and abide by all the ground rules Sam set down, albeit with a whole lot of bitching and eye rolls and _Hello, professional life model_ as he dramatically circled a finger in front of his face.

As Gabriel drops the robe to the ground and carefully positions himself in the chair, Sam is oh so tempted to say _screw the ground rules_ and _let’s forget this whole thing_, because _fuck._ His pulse quickens and heat spreads rapidly from his cheeks all the way down his body, pooling in his groin.

That second class, in all his exuberant flirtations, Gabriel had given Sam, and incidentally the entire class… a bit of eye full. Thoroughly flustered, Sam remembers thinking that there wasn’t an inch of this man’s body that he hadn’t seen. But that wasn’t technically true, because his hips weren’t quite tilted enough and his legs weren’t quite spread enough.

But now… Now they are. Gabriel has both legs stretched over the arms of the chair, and his pelvis is tilted just so, and the lights are angled just right, and Sam has to swallow around the lump in his throat. His jeans suddenly feel way too tight. Perhaps reacting to the slightly strangled noise that escapes Sam’s lips, Gabriel finally looks up at him. His lips are twitching at one corner, like he desperately wants to make a smart assed, or lewd comment, but he miraculously refrains, instead raising one eyebrow in question. _This good for you?_ Sam isn’t entirely sure he can formulate a coherent sentence, so he just nods his head. _Hell yeah._

Sam grabs a stick of charcoal and fiddles nervously with his putty rubber, as Gabriel grabs the nearby bottle of lube and squirts some out onto his fingers. Gabriel pauses for a moment, golden eyes locking onto him, making sure he’s watching, before he reaches a hand down and presses one slick fingertip to his entrance.

And in that moment Sam is frozen. All he can do is stare, drinking in the freaking amazing sight in front of him. Gabriel is goddamn beautiful. The light is hitting him just right, catching the golden strands in his chestnut hair. It’s a little longer than when they first met. He’s pretty sure Gabriel’s been running his hands through it behind that screen, trying to achieve the perfect level of fuckable bedhead, as a few locks are curving across his face and the curls Sam can just about see at the back of his neck have a slightly tangled look, as if someone had been lustfully grabbing hold of him there.

A few images flash through Sam’s mind. The sense memory of Sam’s hands burried in those curls as he kisses Gabriel desperately up against the wall out back at the Roadhouse. Gabriel clinging to him just as desperately, practically trying to climb inside Sam’s mouth…

Sam’s eyes linger on Gabriel’s ‘make out’ hair for another second, before travelling down the length of his body. He skips quickly over temptingly quirked lips (because the last thing he needs now is the image of those lips stretched around his cock) down his flushed neck and chest, taking in the pleasing dusting of chest hair and pert nipples, and unsurprisingly, Sam can see that Gabriel is just as turned on as Sam is, his swollen cock straining against the pale softness of Gabriel’s stomach, tip glistening with pre come.

For now Gabriel is ignoring it, trying to _draw it out as long as possible (pun intended)_. Fuck his inner voice is now starting to sound like Gabriel. Sam’s gaze is drawn even lower, to the fingertip still circling his entrance. Sam can’t help but stare at the hypnotic motion, at the change of skintone there, the deeper, pinker hue. Sam absently starts to think which paints or which pastels he would mix to decribe such a pretty color.

Sam doesn’t know how long he’s just been standing there, charcoal poised, mouth hanging open, contemplating the finer points of Gabriel’s hole, but an annoyed huffing noise finally startles him out of his trance. His eyes flick up to Gabriel’s face, cheeks heating even more in embarassment. Gabriel’s eyebrows are raised and he’s giving Sam a hard stare, but it’s impossible to miss the humour sparkling in his eyes, or the hint of a smirk about his lips.

Right, right get with the program Sam. They’re here for an actual purpose, not to satisfy the most incredible sexual fantasy Sam could conjure up.

Sam gives Gabriel an apologetic smile, circles his shoulders a little in an attempt to loosen the tension there, and he just begins.

His first marks are loose and fluid, rapidly describing the shape of Gabriel’s form. He’s drawn Gabriel so many times now that mapping out his proportions is practically a matter of muscle memory: the exact curve of a surprisingly strong bicep, the slope where his neck meets his shoulders. He keeps the movements of this first sketch gestural, with minimal measuring. There’s a little foreshortening in places, but depicting Gabriel’s body in sweeps of charcoal, has become almost second nature.

Now that Sam has finally gotten his act together, Gabriel has most defintely gotten the proverbial show on the road. All traces of humour have vanished from his features, to be replaced with a silent smoulder. He keeps his motions slow and deliberate, presumably to give Sam a chance to capture them. But finally, finally that circling finger dips inside, teasing just within the rim before inching inside his body. Gabriel’s breath hitches a little at the sensation and the sound makes Sam’s cock twitch. Uncomfortably constrained inside his jeans, he has to use his free hand to adjust himself.

Sam works quickly, moving on from the broad strokes of Gabriel’s torso to describe just exactly what his hands are doing.

God, Sam loves Gabriel’s hands, almost as expressive as his facial features. From clicking his fingers when he gets a brilliant (read that as _insane_) idea, to dramatic sweeps of his arms when he’s trying his very best to piss someone off, to the damanding, needy grasp at the back of Sam’s neck as he pulls him down for a deep kiss. Gabriel talks with his hands almost as much as he talks with those ever mobile lips.

And he’s so incredibly tactile. Brushing a thumb across the back of Sam’s hand when he orders a drink at the bar, or over Sam’s lower lip before pressing a gentle kiss there. Fondling his thigh under the table, especially when he thinks Dean’s watching him, because there’s nothing Gabriel enjoys more than making his brother choke and splutter over his beer.

Sam observes carefully the exact shape Gabriel’s thumb and middle finger make as he pinches and rolls his nipple between work roughened pads. Drawing hands is often really damn tricky, but the shapes flow easily onto the paper. They haven’t been doing this, whatever it is between them, for very long, yet those hands have fascinated Sam for so much longer.

By the time Sam moves onto the hand between Gabriel’s sprawled legs, Gabriel has added more lube and is nudging a second blunt fingertip at his entrance. He gasps a little as the muscle starts to give and Sam is momentarily distracted by the shape his lips make as his mouth falls open on a barely audible groan.

Not one to miss the opportunity, Sam records that beautiful, blissful expression with the barest of impressions, before returning his attention to Gabriel’s fingers, working their way into his body. Sam adds a little more detail here. The curve of a thumb, the tendons standing out on the surface of his small, perfect hand, the stretch of the skin around the two fingers disappearing inside. _Deep breath, fuck, done_.

When Sam takes a step back to review his first sketch, he isn’t really sure how much time has passed. He’s been so focused on observing the curves and dips of Gabriel's body, that time has become some unknowable distant fragment of reality. It’s something that always just, kind of happens when Sam gets lost in a subject, but never so intensely as it has here. Sam feels a little tug of guilt as he realises he has been greedily drinking in everything Gabriel has to give, without checking in on how he actually _is_.

And Gabriel must be a damn mindreader, or maybe just a little too practiced at reading Sam’s expressions, because he huffs out an incrediculous chuckle, eyebrows doing a little dance as he drawls, “Jesus Sammy, enough with the puppy dog eyes. I’m fine. Passed fine a good ten min”- a hitched breath as he fucks his fingers a little deeper and starts to scissor them – “utes ago, shot straight past hunky dory and I think… ah… yes… fuck… ‘m headed somewhere in the vicinity of… _Jesus fuck_… heaven."

And just like that, the tension has left Sam’s body and he can’t help the fit of giggles that desperately want to escape him. He practically doubles over as he tries to control himself and ow ok, that kind of hurts, as his still hard dick scrapes against the zipper of his jeans. He quickly straightens, fumbles open his button and zipper and eases his jeans off, thankful he was already in bare feet.

_Fuck that is so much better_.

Gabriel gives a low whistle and directs quite possibly the dirtiest grin Sam has ever seen at him, making Sam flush an even deeper shade of red and his cock twitch with more than a little interest.

_Jesus, this is devolving quickly._

Sam levels Gabriel with his most prize winning bitch face and Gabriel quickly slips slick fingers from his body and holds up both hands in mock surrender. And Sam does not miss the way his hole quivers from the loss. The already wet patch on the front of Sam’s boxers spreads, as his very excited cock produces more precome.

_Christ_, Sam thinks he might just come without touching himself, _or_ Gabriel.

Sam closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to talk himself back from the edge.

“Sam?”

There’s a hint of worry in Gabriel’s voice and when Sam opens his eyes to look at him, his expression is suddenly serious, uncertainty flickering in his golden eyes. And honestly, Sam wants to kick himself for causing that little bit of doubt to show through Gabriel’s normally unflappable personality.

He runs a hand over his face, takes a slightly shaky breath, and sends Gabriel a sheepish smile.

“It’s ok Gabe, this is just”, Sam shrugs, “a lot”, he finishes lamely, his vocabulary utterly failing him.

Gabriel looks away, his lips pursed in an unhappy line.

“Yeah, I’ve been told I’m a bit… much,” Gabriel sighs. He tries for a smirk and shrugs one shoulder as he looks back at Sam, but the smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Sam can’t help the grunt of frustration that escapes him then. He manouvers awkwardly around his easel and steps up to the platform, positioning himself just in front of Gabriel’s still spread legs. He leans over, bracing himself on the arm of the chair, just short of Gabriel’s thigh, and cups the side of Gabriel’s face with his other hand, stroking a thumb over the soft skin over Gabriel’s cheekbone.

He just stares into Gabriel’s honey gold eyes for a moment, as Gabriel looks up at him expectantly, lips slightly parted. And Sam can’t resist the plump fullness of that beautifully asymmetric lower lip. He dips his head and plants a soft kiss just there before pulling back a little to hold Gabriel’s gaze again.

“Gabe, you are nothing short of extraordinary.” Sam feels his lips pull into a wide smile, and is rewarded with Gabriel’s lips pulling into a matching, brilliant smile, complete with adorable dimples.

Sam dips his head again, to capture those incredible lips in another kiss, but Gabriel is pushing him backwards, making a soft tutting sound at the back of his throat. His expression has taken on a mischievous edge, and Sam feels his head spinning with just how quickly Gabriel has come back to his usual self, all traces of self doubt swept away.

Sam can’t help the bitchface that he can feel trying to take up residence on his features at the loss of contact.

Gabriel just chuckles at the sight and in an overly cheerful voice says, “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. We’ve barely begun.”

Sam opens his mouth to protest, but Gabriel holds up a finger to shush him, eyes glittering with mirth.

Upping the level of his bitchface to defcon two, Sam raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest, huffing out an annoyed breath. Admittedly it’s not very effective when he’s standing there in his boxers, half hard dick still tenting the fabric. It only serves to make Gabriel’s smile ever more gleeful.

Sam just shakes his head, knowing he isn’t going to win this argument, not when Gabriel has _plans._

“Jesus Gabe, fine.” He purses his lips. “Just take a break, or your thighs are going to feel like hell in the morning.”

“You seriously underestimate my flexibility, Sammy boy,” Gabriel says with a waggle of his eyebrows. But when Sam gives him another hard stare, he rolls his eyes dramatically and extricates himself from the chair. He staggers a little and hisses in a sharp breath as his legs threaten to buckle from under him, but Sam’s right there to steady him.

“Gabe-”

“No need to employ the puppy dog eyes again Sam, ‘s just a bit of cramp.”

Gabriel hops on one leg a moment, almost toppling them both, but grabbing Sam’s bicep, he manages to steady himself. They’re standing way too close. Sam can feel the heat radiating from Gabriel’s naked body and feels his own body respond to the sudden proximity, cock swelling from half mast, to hard as nails in the space of a couple of heartbeats. Sam looks down at Gabriel’s upturned face. He has smudges of charcoal on his cheek and chin, his hair is starting to stick to his forehead in sweaty clumps, but Sam barely notices these things, as he finds himself mesmorised by Gabriel’s eyes, pupils blown wide, encircled by a narrow rim of molten gold.

Gabriel holds his gaze for a moment, but then he’s clearing his throat and stepping out of Sam’s near embrace. Sam clenches his jaw in frustration. Gabriel is hands down the most infuriating person Sam has ever met. Given that Dean Winchester is his brother, that’s really saying something. He’s a stubborn, pushy, mouthy little shit. Sam should find all of those things offputting, yet ironically it’s precisely those qualities that spark a fire down in the pit of his belly. Gabriel’s a force of nature and Sam feels like he’s caught in the maelstrom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive Sam's frustration. It's been too long and he's had several weeks of Gabriel being Gabriel at this point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd post the first few chapters as quick as I can to get the "story" going. Then I'll slow down a little so I can keep the writing ahead. Anyway this chapter contain smut, smut and more smut with some hopefully amusing awkward sex thrown in.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it
> 
> EDIT: eep so sorry there were so many mistakes in this chapter. I did self beta a fair bit on my tablet and thought I'd caught things, but my eye seemd to skip over things and I didn't pay enough attention when uploading all these chapters in quick succession, just skim reading to check for formatting issues. I only noticed when I downloaded the PDF and had a good read through. I'm editing the first few chapters to clean up and sort a few sentence structure issues, prior to posting the last chapter and epilogue.

Sam splashes cold water on his face and gives his reflection a hard stare. All this sexual tension is really screwing with his head. Sure Gabriel is teasing him, driving him crazy, but the whole point of this exercise is to help Sam, maybe give him something to work with, and Sam knows that he really needs to stop thinking with his dick and start using his brain. If his sex crazed boyfriend can control himself, then Sam sure as fuck should be able to too.

When Sam’s heartbeat has finally returned to something resembling it’s normal pace, he pats his face dry and steels himself, before returning to the life drawing room. Gabriel has thankfully finished his incredibly distracting stretches, but is now bent over, ass in the air, rummaging through a cool bag. And being Gabriel, he hasn’t found it necessary to put his robe back on. Sam closes his eyes tight, breathes deeply through his nose and clenches his hands into fists, digging his nails into suddenly sweaty palms.

_Fuckity fuck._

When he dares to open his eyes again, Gabriel is giving him a slightly smug, knowing look, but thankfully doesn’t comment on Sam’s state of distress. Instead he waves a chocolate bar in Sam’s direction.

“Want one?” He gives a small smirk, “Might distract you from oggling my sweet, sweet ass.”

Sam shakes his head and rolls his eyes, “Jesus Gabe.” But he can’t help adding with a smile of his own, “There’s nothing in the world that could distract me from that.”

Gabriel beams at him, a sight that most definitely doesn’t make Sam’s heart skip a beat, chucks one of the chocolate bars on the chair and goes right back to rummaging. Sam quickly averts his eyes, before he loses his shit again, and walks back to the easel.

He busies himself mixing some colors on his palette, glancing up, when he thinks it might be safe enough, to observe the subtle tones of Gabriel’s skin. Gabriel has a couple of bottles in his hand. Sam could kiss him all over again when he holds out a beer, condensation clinging to the ice cold glass. He accepts the bottle greatfully, shivering a little as his fingers briefly brush against Gabriel’s.

The next time Sam looks up, Gabriel is settled back in the chair, perched at the edge, legs swinging over the end of the platform, looking for all the world like an overgrown 5 year old. He’s taking a huge bite of his chocolate bar, scattering chocolate crumbs into his lap. Gabriel is not exactly the most delicate of eaters. In his other hand, his drink of choice appears to be some obnoxiously blue fizzy alcopop, that’s probably about 90% sugar. Sam can’t help chuckling and shaking his head.

“What?” Gabriel says around a mouthful of chocolate.

“You’re getting chocolate on your dick,” Sam replies and chucks a pack of wetwipes at Gabriel before he can make a comment about Sam coming over and licking it off. Because if Gabriel actually says such a thing, Sam will find it really damn hard not to comply with such a tempting request.

“Real mature Samsquatch,” Gabriel mutters. “You could have just used your tongue you know.”

Sam sighs as Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows, spreads his legs wider, and gestures at his cock, which is starting to get interested in precedings again.

“You’re really trying to kill me here aren’t you.”

Gabriel throws Sam his most innocent look, completely ruined by the filthy smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

~~~ 

By the time Gabriel’s finished his snack and cleaned himself up a bit, Sam has everything he needs prepared. After a little bit of discussion and Gabriel’s assurances that his thighs can stand up to more punishment, he ends up in pretty much the same position as before, giving Sam the best view of his most intimate areas, while making sure Sam can also observe the beauty of his expressions.

Sam attaches a large sheet of heavy weight cartridge paper to his board, and as Gabriel lubes up his fingers, he begins making a few tentative marks on the page. He watches Gabriel’s movements carefully, and starts to fill the page with little studies, fragments of Gabriel’s form, in broad strokes of watercolour and ink. In the top left corner, an image of Gabriel’s heavily lidded eye, a flash of gold iris just visible. On the right side, a series of sketches of Gabriel’s lips, as he pants through the intrusion of two fingers entering him once more. And over and over again, sometimes overlapping, he maps the movements of Gabriel’s clever hands, as he fondles his balls, as he teases a nipple to a delicious peak, as he scissors his fingers, stretching his hole ever wider.

His skin is flushed a beautiful rosy hue and sweat is beading on his brow. He doesn’t look at Sam anymore, too lost inside his own head and the sensations his own hands are drawing from his body. And it’s perfect. It’s no longer a performance. It’s the ultimate intimacy, seeing Gabriel completely open and wanton, and for lack of a better word, vulnerable. And Sam feels overawed that Gabriel is giving this to him. Giving every part of himself.

Sam is really reluctant to break the spell, but he needs to see one more thing before moving on to the final piece.

“Um, Gabe,” Sam begins and Gabriel startles at his voice, like he’d almost forgotten Sam was there.

Gabriel’s hands still and he blinks at Sam, eyes glazed and dark. “Yeaaah?” His voice is kind of hoarse and there’s a slight squeak in there. He clears his throat and tries again, “Wha’s up Samshine?”

And Sam wants to tell him he’s perfect, and that this is so much more than he could ever have dreamed of. And maybe he suddenly wants to declare his undying love. Because fuck it, there’s just no other word for the way Sam feels about the incredible man in front of him. But he just can’t find the words, or maybe it’s courage he’s lacking in. So instead he just stammers out, “Um, can you... can you, you know,” he waves helplessly at Gabriel’s hard and leaking cock. “Just um... a little. Not you know...”

_Fuck that was eloquent Sam._

But ever the mind reader, Gabriel seems to know exactly what he needs. “You want me to shake the bottle up... but not... pop the cork?” He raises one eyebrow in Sam’s direction, and makes the universal wanking sign with one hand, while starting to fuck himself again with the fingers of the other hand.

“Um,” Sam rubs the back of his neck and feels his cheeks flusing bright red, “uh yeah. If you can.”

Gabriel draws his brows together and scrunches up his mouth in a contemplative gesture, that isn’t completely adorable. His lips draw down into an exaggerated frown and he shrugs one shoulder.

“Maybe? But I’m not exactly gonna be quiet as a church mouse.”

Sam swallows. “Ah... you’re absolutely sure no one else is in the building?”

“Just you and me, and a fuck load of sexual tension Samcakes.”

Sam snorts out a laugh and rubs his neck again. “Yeah you could say that.” He loads up his brush with more color, and smiles over at Gabriel’s expectant face. _Ready._

Gabriel hesitates for one moment, hand hovering over his leaking cock. He takes a deep breath, and wraps his fingers around the hard length. More precome oozes from the tip and he groans long and loud at the simple touch.

Sam hasn’t exactly backed far away from the constant arousal, but now he feels like a fire has been lit in the pit of his belly. He clenches his jaw again and works as quickly as he can, trying desperately to ignore the ache in his groin.

Gabriel is stroking his cock ever so slowly, smearing precome over his length, twisting gently on the down strokes, as the fingers inside him make equally slow motions. But the noises, jesus the noises that are falling from his lips are pure pornography. Gabriel wasn’t kidding, he’s _loud_. And Sam really hopes that no one has snuck back into the building to indulge in some late night artistry, because he’s pretty sure Gabriel’s moans can be heard all the way down in the basement dark room.

He watches as Gabriel crooks his fingers, and he’s about to say, that might not be the _best_ idea but-

“Ah....ah....ah..._fuck_.”

Gabriel’s eyes fly open and he grabs quickly at the base of his cock, hissing at what must be a damn unpleasant sensation. Sam cringes in sympathy. Gabriel’s eyes are screwed shut and he’s panting heavily, sweat pouring from his brow.

“Sorry I-,” Sam begins, but Gabriel just opens his eyes long to glare at him, and Sam’s pretty sure some choice words would be thrown in his direction if Gabriel had the breath left to utter them.

He carefully removes the sheet of paper from the board and grabs a fresh sheet, all the while listening as Gabriel’s breaths gradually even out.

When he looks up at Gabriel again, he’s taking a long swig from his alcopop. Sam can’t help but stare at the long line of his neck and the motion of his adam’s apple as he swallows the sweet liquid down. The curls at the back of his neck are damp with sweat, and a few strands are sticking to his skin, curling over the juncture between his neck and narrow shoulder. God he’s beautiful. Sam desperately wants to touch him, taste the salty sweat slick skin, maybe suck a deep bruise into the pale flesh right there.

He closes his eyes tight and takes a few deep breaths of his own. He’s sweating heavily too now and too damn hot. With shaking fingers, he unbuttons his plaid shirt and sighs with relief as he eases the damp material off his shoulders and drops it to the the floor, all the time feeling Gabriel’s heavy gaze on him.

“I thought we weren’t going with the strip tease Winchester,” he chuckles breathlessly. He gives an appreciative whistle. “Hot damn, with that sort of view I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Sam shakes his head and laughs, but he can feel the blush speading down his chest as Gabriel’s hungry gaze travels down the length of his body. Gabriel gives him a pointed look and gestures with the bottle at Sam’s boxers, one eyebrow raised. Sam sighs, but relents and shucks those too. He can’t deny the relief he feels as his straining cock bobs free of restraint.

Gabriel remains surprisingly silent. When Sam looks up at him, he’s just staring at Sam’s erection, mouth hanging open, and as Sam watches him, a wet pink tongue runs along his bottom lip.

Sam shifts nervously, suddenly feeling too exposed. Which is ridiculous after all he’s seen of Gabriel. And it’s not like Gabriel hasn’t seen his dick before; there’s just something about standing naked in the middle of an open space, that makes him feel off balance, and maybe a little too vulnerable. And just like that, he’s amazed all over again, because Gabriel does this two or three times a week. And it’s not just one pair of eyes, but 10, sometimes more: watching him, scrutinising him (and in Zachariah’s case _judging_ him). Sam could never put himself in that position.

He clears his throat. Gabriel blinks and looks up at him, his cheeks flushing a little. And wow, Sam doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gabriel embarassed before, but he soon hides it well, with a wide smile and an eyebrow wiggle.

“Okay, dokey big boy, ready for the money shot,” Gabriel drawls as he replaces the empty bottle and picks up the lube, squirting a little on both hands.

Sam draws his brows together and levels a serious look at Gabriel. “Are you sure you can take any more...” He waves his hand helplessly at Gabriels spread thighs.

Gabriel smirks and waves one slick finger at him. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, there you go underestimating me again.” He positions three digits this time at his entrance, just pressing at the rim, looks up at Sam, “Kiddo, surely you realise by now...,” he gasps as the tips of his fingers finally breach the ring of muscle, “...I got... stamina.”

As the moaning starts again, Sam guesses that’s his cue to get his shit together. He picks up the charcoal again, because, despite Gabriel’s boasts, Sam knows he won’t last long, and no other medium will allow him to capture this moment so quickly. His lines are loose again, but he adds much more depth, turning the stick of charcoal on its side, mapping out areas of shade and using his putty rubber to lift out highlights.

He works frantically as Gabriel’s hands shift over his body, fingers fucking into his hole with far more speed and much less finese, hips bucking up to push those fingers a little deeper. His other hand runs over his chest, occasionally pulling at a nipple, skimming over his ribs, but stopping just short of his cock, fisting briefly in obvious frustration, before detouring to his thigh. His head is thrown back, the line of his neck exposed, and he’s making a sort of gutteral keening at the back of his throat.

It’s not difficult to see how close he is to the edge. Sam speeds up, trying to capture everything at lightening speed. He sketches in the shape of Gabriel’s thrown back face and the strands of hair plastered to his forehead, but leaves the features blank for now, knowing the exact moment he wants to capture.

“Gabe... you can, you can... now,” he stammers out through heavy breaths.

And Gabriel doesn’t have to be told twice, he grasps hold of his erection, and begins stripping his cock at a punishing speed. Pushing up into his fist and back down onto his fingers, and _fuck_, he’s somehow added his pinky without Sam noticing, rim stretched wide around the intrusion. He’s muttering a string of words, a flow of conciousness in among the moans, but Sam can’t make out the words (apart from _Sam_ and a smattering of profanities) because his own heartbeat is pounding in his ears.

His hands are shaking almost too much to hold the charcoal, but he manages to scribble out an impression of Gabriel’s fingers, curled around his cock, picking out the highlights of his knuckles and tendons with the putty rubber, before he fumbles it and it drops to the floor. Sam ignores it though, because Gabriel’s finally coming apart completely, so beautifully.

Sam just watches in awe as Gabriel strokes his cock, once, twice more, and he’s coming in thick stripes over his chest and belly, a strangled cry torn from his lips, that sounds suspiciously like Sam’s name. Sam commits the image to memory, watching the after tremors pass through Gabriel’s body, the way his lower lip quivers and his eyes roll almost all the way back. And only then, as he listens to Gabriel’s ragged breaths, does he commit that memory to paper.

Once he’s satisfied, he removes the paper from his board, sets it on the floor, and grabs the semi transparent acrylic ink from the desk, and hesitates over his drawing for a moment. This could get incredibly hokey. But fuck it, tonight, or more likely, this morning, is all about risks. Steadying his hand as much as he’s capable right now, he drips a short arc of white acrylic ink above the image of Gabriel’s straining cock.

With that last gesture, he doesn’t give his studies one more look. He shoves his materials in the direction of the desk, stands up, and staggers the few short steps over to where Gabriel is sprawled, still panting on the chair. He looks pleadingly into Gabriel’s blown pupils. He’s not sure exactly what he’s asking for, but he can’t take it anymore, he has to touch and taste and...

Gabriel gives him a lazy smile and what might have been a come hither look, if he wasn’t already looking completely wrecked, but it’s enough. Sam closes the remaining distance in a heartbeat.

It rapidly becomes apparent, that the height of the platform, hasn’t exactly negated the problematic height difference between them. It’s just going to make things that bit more awkward. It would almost be easier to lift Gabriel off the chair and perch him on the desk, or lay him down on the length of platform behind the chair, or even brace him against the wall. But Sam’s arms and legs feel like jelly, and he’s pretty sure that despite his reasonable strength, there’s no way in hell that he can carry Gabriel’s weight right now. Besides, he really can’t wait that long.

He stands in front of the platform, and leans over as he did before, capturing Gabriel’s mouth in a desperate kiss. Gabriel shuffles forward as best he can, and pulls Sam’s head down almost painfully, trying to deepen the kiss, but their bodies are still frustratingly far apart. Sure, Gabriel could give him a hand job from here, but Sam wants, _needs_, so much more. He tries to shift further forward into Gabriel’s embrace, but only succeeds in barking his shins on the edge of the platform. _Christ that hurt_.

Next he tries to climb onto the chair between Gabriel’s spread thighs, but with Gabriel in this position, there isn’t much room, and as he starts to lever himself up, he realises that his cock is inevitably going to be way too high, more in line for a blow job than anything else. _Fuck_. Sam let’s out a strangled groan of frustration. Gabriel starts to shake beneath him, and it takes a moment for Sam to realise he’s actually fucking _giggling_.

“Not funny Gabe, really not funny,” Sam manages to grit out between clenched teeth as he clambers back off again. He glares at Gabriel, almost bent double, and holding his come smeared belly as he descends into histerics.

“Gaaaabe, please.” Sam can hear the whine in his own voice. If he didn’t feel so strung out and desperate, he’d be kind of mortified.

Gabriel hiccups down a few last chuckles, hitches in a few breaths, and Sam’s sure he’s going to have another giggling fit, but his lips just twitch a few times, and he regards Sam with watery eyes.

“Oh come _on_, you know I can’t resist the kicked puppy look.” He frowns and looks around the chair. “Ok Sam-a-lam, push the chair back a few inches, an stand on the platform. Won’t be perfect, but...” He shrugs.

Sam pushes the chair back with shaking arms, wondering why the hell Gabriel hasn’t actually helped by getting out of the damn chair, but he figures given how wrecked the man looks, his legs probably aren’t going to work so well either.

After what feels like a momentus effort (Gabriel is short, but he’s a solid weight) Sam is finally able to fall into his embrace. As Gabriel predicted, it’s not perfect. Sam’s still a little too high, and their groins don’t just slide together in a perfect fit, but at this point, Sam will take anything. He can feel the heat radiating from Gabriel’s body, and the sweat slick skin beneath him, and it’s incredible.

Gabriel’s spent cock is brushing against one of Sam’s thighs, and he’s pleasantly surprised to feel that it’s at half mast already. Given that Gabriel has 10 years on him, his refractory period is impressively short. His own erection is sliding somewhere between the top of Gabriel’s stomach and the soft skin over his ribs, just nudging at a pectoral muscle as he rocks desperately back and forth, sweat and come smoothing the motion somewhat. He has to use one of his hands to brace himself, but the other is constantly shifting over Gabriel’s body, as far as he can reach. Finally he can touch those beautiful dips and curves, the hard muscle under perfectly soft, pale skin.

It’s still awkward as hell. The edge of the chair is digging into his legs, and his toes are likely to slip off the edge of the platform if he isn’t careful. Gabriel shifts a little beneath him, and wraps a leg around one of Sam’s, and an arm about his waist, steadying him, and bringing more of their bodies flush, and _fuck yeah_, that’s so much better. They’re a tangle of limbs and heavy breaths, and it feels so damn good.

Sam’s the noisy one now. He can’t help the gasps and groans that escape his lips. Gabriel’s lips on the otherhand, are a little busy, as he sucks and licks at Sam’s chest, and _fuck_, the tip of his tongue has just rolled around one of Sam’s nipples. Sam tangles his fingers in Gabriel’s sweat damp hair, grabbing the soft curls, and just holds his head there for a moment longer, because Gabriel’s lips and tongue are just so damn mobile and clever.

He can feel the pressure building, knows he’s not going to last much longer. Given the way that Gabriel’s hips are stuttering beneath him, he’s pretty sure that Gabriel’s not far behind. He tries to hold on, because he doesn’t want this feeling to ever end, but Gabriel makes a low growl in the back of his throat, actually bites down on his nipple (_fuck, shit_ that hurts and it’s so good at the same time) and he feels wetness spread over thigh as he soars over the edge, vision whiting out for one glorious moment, as he comes harder than he’s ever come in his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the most angsty you're going to get in this fic. Definitely a lot of insecurity on both sides and bad communication skills. But mostly what we have here is kinda fluffy and a bit silly.

All the strength has gone out of the muscles throughout his body, but he’s cognisant enough to realise that he can’t just collapse on top of Gabriel, as he’d both crush and suffocate the man. Breath labouring out of his throat, he levers himself up, and scrambles off of the chair, not quite able to make his eyelids work properly. He staggers backwards, almost forgetting about the platform, but catching himself at the last minute. And hey, his eyelids do still work. He blinks, trying to get his vision to clear. He can hear Gabriel’s breaths, sounding just as ragged as his own.

Finally, after rubbing his eyes a few times, his vision clears, and he looks up at Gabriel’s sprawled form as he breathes out, “Gabe that was-” His voice stutters to a stop when he takes in Gabriel’s face. _Oh, oh shit_. Apparently all that tension, all that build up, really had made him come harder than he’s ever come before. Come so hard in fact that... and ok so Gabriel’s head had been dipped... but he never meant to... _Jesus_. There’s come all over one side of Gabriel’s face. On the apple of his cheek, dribbling down towards the corner of his mouth, a little spot on the side of his nose, a streak across his eyebrow, narrowly missing his eye, and fuck, there’s even some in his hair. And Gabriel’s looking decidedly startled, golden eyes wide, and he’s just blinking at Sam.

“Oh Gabe, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to...” Sam stammers. He should be finding the wet wipes, or a wet cloth, or _something_. But instead he’s standing here, mouth hanging open, staring at the sight of his own come dripping slowly down his lover’s face.

Gabriel blinks at him one more time, then his mobile features are shifting, lips stretching into a wide grin, and Sam lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Because Gabriel isn’t pissed at him. There’s no anger there. Instead his eyes are glittering with amusement.

Sam watches with wide eyes as Gabriel catches the dribble, takes a look at his finger, shrugs, and sucks the finger into his mouth, eyes catching Sam’s as he hums around the digit. _Jesus fuck!_ Sam’s spent cock, makes a valiant attempt to release another load, but it’s more pain than pleasure so soon after such a massive release.

Gabriel removes the finger with a pop, and gives Sam the most smug, shit eating grin he’s even seen.

“Sammy, what we have here, is some prime, grade A, bukakke porn.”

Sam makes a sound in the back of his throat that’s half laugh, half groan. He coughs, splutters, then opens his mouth, intending to throw out a witty come back.

But instead, he blurts out, “I love you.”

_What the fuck?_ The pit falls out of his stomach, and he stares in horror, as the smile freezes, then slowly withers from Gabriel’s features. Sam clasps a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late, the words are out there and he can’t take them back. It’s too soon. No matter the truth of those words, and Sam realises just how true they are as he feels his heart clench painfully in his chest, there’s no way that Gabriel could feel the same way. No way in hell, judging by the wide eyed, deer in headlights expression on his face.

And Sam could kick himself. Why in fuck did he have to go and spoil something so good, so fucking fantastic? He hasn’t felt this way about someone for years, not since Jess. Christ he has the feeling he might love Gabriel even more, but that doesn’t matter a damn, because Sam’s pretty sure it’s over. Any minute now, Gabriel’s going to tell him he’s flattered, but it was just a casual thing and... Sam feels tears starting to prickle at the corners of his eyes and he wipes at them furiously.

He clears his throat and steels himself, because maybe he can salvage something here.

“Gabriel I... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... I mean, we can just forget what I said. I...” Why are the words so hard to come by? Gabriel’s face is shifting through a variety of expressions, none of which Sam can decifer. “I... ok I’ll just,” Sam hangs his head and turns away.

“Were you dropped on the head as a child?”

Sam tenses, and he feels his stomach drop even futher. Gabriel’s frequently teased him, but it’s always been playful, never cruel. Sam whips around, suddenly angry, fists clenched at his side. Because it’s one thing to say he doesn’t feel the same way and end this thing between them. But to make fun of him? To belittle his feelings? After all that time, all those years Sam had shut himself off, afraid to let anyone in. But Gabriel had weaseled his way into Sam’s affections. He’d knocked down those barriers with a battering ram. And now he has the nerve to humiliate him?

“What did you just say?” Sam grinds out between clenched teeth.

Gabriel just rolls his eyes at him and slowly extricates himself from the chair. He staggers a little and grimaces at some ache or pain in his leg. Sam has to stop himself from stepping forward and steadying him when he stumbles, he’s way too pissed, way too hurt to help the man.

Sam breathes in deep breaths, and just waits for Gabriel to continue. He can feel tears try to form in his eyes again, but he blinks them away, hoping that Gabriel won’t notice.

No such luck, Gabriel is standing on the edge of the platform, staring at him, brows furrowed.

“Were you though?”

Sam doesn’t know whether he wants to hit him or break down and cry. He settles for just glaring.

Gabriel lets out what sounds like a frustrated huff. He runs his hands through his hair, belatedly noticing that they’re still covered in come and lube, and god knows what else, and Sam almost laughs at the face he pulls, but then Gabriel is looking at him again, gold eyes boring into him.

“You’re 6 ft 4? 5? Of pure sculpted Adonis. With a face like a frickin Angel,” Gabriel spits out at him.

And Sam just gapes at him, head spinning, not sure where this is going, not sure what to say. But Gabriel clearly isn’t finished. He hops down from the platform, ankle almost going out from under him, but he brushes off Sam’s attempt to steady him, and starts pacing back and forth, throwing the occassional glare at Sam’s bewildered expression.

“But you’re not just a pretty face or a steaming hot bod. Nooooooo,” Gabriel’s eyes flash gold at him, “Nope. You’re also brilliant. You could have been a lawyer or a doctor with that big brain of yours, made a shit tonne of money as a banker, or some wank like that. But you followed your passion. And you have no clue how frickin fantastic you are. Because you’re stupidly humble and generous and idiotically self sacrificing and perfect-”

“Gabe I’m not,” Sam scrunches his face up. The way Gabriel’s painting this idealised picture of him... “I’m not perfect, I’ve... some of the shit I’ve done, I-”

“Are you actually trying to talk me out of this?” Gabriel’s in his face, eyes burning bright, lips pressed into an angry line. “Congratulations! You’re flawed. You’re human.”

“But if you knew-”

“I would what? Think less of you?” Gabriel chuckles. “Oh wow, that’s priceless.”

Sam’s heart is hammering in his chest. Gabriel is pissed at him and he has no idea why. None of this makes any sense at all.

Gabriel must have seen something in his expression, because suddenly he’s there right in front of Sam, holding on to his forearms, and looking into his face, expression softened. “You really don’t know, do you? How could you not know?”

Sam gives him a bewildered look. “Know what Gabe? I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.” His voice hitches at the end.

“Of course I love you!” Gabriel stares into his eyes, “I’ve loved you for a very long time... you idiot”

Sam’s heart does a somersault in his chest. He shakes his head and barks out a startled laugh. Then he finds himself doubled over as his body is taken over by a giggling fit. When he’s finally able to control himself, he wipes streaming eyes, and looks up at Gabriel.

He has his arms crossed over his messy chest and is sporting the mother of all pouts.

“Gabe, why didn’t you just say that,” Sam sighs in exasperation. He’s exhausted and he feels like he’s been through the wringer, emotionally and physically, but this is important. Sam steps forward, and brushes a lock of hair from Gabriel’s forehead, letting the motion carry down to his cheek, until Sam is gently cupping his jaw and tilting his face upwards. “Why did you make me think I’d made a mistake. That you didn’t feel the same way. When I told you... Your face... I thought I’d ruined everything.”

Gabriel draws in a heavy breath and blows it out through pursed lips. He averts his gaze, like he can’t quite look Sam in the eyes.

“You threw me ok.” Gabriel’s face screws up, like he’s working through some sort of inner turmoil. Sam just waits, running his fingers back and forth along Gabriel’s jawline, and into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Sam, I’m an asshole,” Gabriel finally huffs out.

Sam opens his mouth to protest, because that is the biggest load of bull, but Gabriel gives him an annoyed look, so he just shuts up listens.

Gabriel sighs and steps out of Sam’s embrace. “I’m self centred and cowardly.” Sam frowns. _What?_ That just isn’t true. “I piss people off, and 90% of the time it’s deliberate.

“Look, I’ve had relationships before. They don’t come for the looks... or the charm,” he shakes his head and bites his lip, “but I’m a spectacular lay.” Gabriel winks at him and he can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Well that at least is true.

“But then they get bored. Sex isn’t enough. I piss them off, or accidentally insult their mother.” Gabriel scruches up his face. “Ok maybe that one time it wasn’t an accident, but in my defence, she was overly controlling, a horrible snob and massive dickwad.

“Point is, it never lasts,” he sighs, shrugs and looks down at his feet. “Then you come along. With your flowing hair, heart breaking smile and legs that go on for miles. And you’re waaaaay out my league. But I think what the hell. No game, no gain right?”

Sam closes his eyes, because he knows what’s coming.

“And you reject me. Of course you do. You’re you and I’m,” he sweeps a hand dramatically down the length of his body as if that somehow explains things.

“Gabe that’s not why,” Sam begins, but Gabriel holds his hand up to silence him.

“I know, extenuating circumstances and all that jazz.” He lifts his shoulders up and hugs his arms around himself. “I should never have gone after you. Ellen didn’t give me any of the details, but she said you’d been through a lot... but I was selfish.”

“For the record, I’m glad you did,” Sam says softly. “If you hadn’t, I don’t think I’d ever have moved on.”

Gabriel gives him a small, sad smile. “Anyways, then, then you were there. And you wanted me. And I thought wow, what have I done to deserve this? Then I just thought with my dick and enjoyed the hell out of it. But I never, never thought...” Gabriel brakes off.

“Thought what?”

“I never in a million years, thought that you would fall in love with me.”

Sam closes the distance between them in a heart beat, and gathers Gabriel to his chest, wrapping arms tightly around his shaking form. Gabriel’s body is sticky and slimy, but Sam doesn’t care, he just wants to feel Gabriel against him, feel the heart beat hammering in his chest, just like Sam’s. Feel Gabriel’s hot breath against his skin. Gabriel melts against him and brings his arms up to wrap them tightly about Sam’s waist.

“And then you were all ‘I’m not worthy,’ or some such shit. And I couldn’t take it Sam, I really couldn’t,” Gabriel mumbles against his chest. “Seriously, what is it with you? How could you think I wouldn’t.... How could you not know? I thought you were the clever one.”

Sam sighs and rests his cheek on the top of Gabriel’s head, breathing in the strawberries and cream scent of his shampoo.

“I didn’t know,” Sam murmurs into Gabriel’s hair. “I thought I’d messed things up between us. I thought I’d lose you.” He tightens his arms around Gabriel’s body, the thought making him shudder.

Gabriel makes a snorting nose against his chest. “Can’t get rid of me that easily Winchester. I’m like a fungal nail infection. You’ll try to get rid of me, but I’ll just keep coming back.”

“Ew Gabe, that’s gross.” Sam screws up his face, but he can’t help laughing too. He sighs happily and presses a kiss to the top of Gabriel’s head, before pillowing his cheek into soft hair again. “Never trying to get rid of you. Never letting you go.”

They just stand there for a few minutes, breathing evenly, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“That’s handy,” Gabriel finally mutters, breaking the easy silence. “Because I think we’re actually stuck to each other.”

Sam laughs until he can’t breathe, takes a deep breath, and then laughs some more, holding a shaking Gabriel against him until both of their giggles subside.

~~~

The clean up is a long a laborious task. Sam tries to scrub the dried come from Gabriel’s face and body with a damp clean rag, but it’s pretty ingrained and isn’t budging from the matted chest hair, nor from the clump now throughly dried into the front of Gabriel’s hair. Sam gives up and hands Gabriel his beanie to hide it. By the time they’re finished clean up and sneaking out the building, there’s a good chance that Garth, the head janitor, will be opening up and making his rounds. It’s going to be awkward enough as it is to explain why Gabriel’s still here, especially with Sam in tow. Garth’s a bit of a space cadet, but he’s scarily observant.

Cleaning up Sam’s a bit easier, apart from a bit of transfer, he isn’t nearly as sticky. Most of the come seems to have ended up on Gabriel. There’s still a few stubborn patches, and Gabriel takes way too long, and gains far too much satisfaction, from scrubbing a sticky hand print from Sam’s left butt cheek. Sam looks pointedly as his wrist watch and throws a bitchface over his shoulder, until Gabriel grumbles, and tosses the thoroughly soiled rag towards the binbag, hanging from his janitor’s caddy.

They gingerly pull on their clothes, and then stumble around, trying to remove all evidence of their late night tryst. Sam pauses to spray fixative on his charcoal drawings, before piling his materials into his rucksack, and heading to the rest room, to dump his water and wash out his brushes.

He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and pauses to really look at himself. His hair is ruffled and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks worn out, but amazingly he doesn’t think he’s seen himself look so happy in a long, long time. It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. A weight he’s been carrying for years. He smiles faintly at the man staring back at him.

When he gets back to the life drawing room, Gabriel is looking down at his work, one hip propped against the desk, and head titled to the side. Sam steps up beside him, fiddling with the brushes in his hand. He’s nervous. Gabriel’s opinion matters to him, matters more than anyone.

Gabriel whistles, long and low. “I think you’ve outdone yourself kiddo.”

Sam feels the pride swell in his chest, but as he looks down at the pictures, he suddenly feels fearful. “I can’t... No one can see these.”

Gabriel turns to him and raises a questioning eyebrow.

“They... They’re too intimate... Everyone will see you... I can’t do that to you,” Sam stammers, cheeks heating in embarassment.

Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes at him. “I’m a life model Sam. There isn’t a single person in this building who hasn’t seen my dick.”

Sam throws up his hands. “That’s different! There’s no universe in which this is the same thing. Look at them?”

Gabriel looks down at the paintings, the images of his fingers working their way into his body, of his hand teasing his own nipples, of his head thrown back in ecstasy. A look passes over his features, gone before Sam can begin to decifer what it means.

“It was my idea Sam. I’m ok with this.” He’s looking into Sam’s eyes and Sam can see the sincerity there, even if he can’t understand it.

“I can’t,” Sam repeats.

Gabriel furrows his brow. “Are you ashamed of-”

“No!” Sam cuts him off before he can complete that sentence. “No, christ no. I love you. You’re beautiful and perfect and I don’t care if the whole world knows we’re together. I want the whole world to know.”

Gabriel’s smiling at him, eyes soft. The look on his face makes Sam’s heart skip a beat.

“But I just... can’t...” Sam trails off, not knowing how he can explain emotions he doesn’t entirely understand himself.

Gabriel steps closer to him and grabs hold of his free hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles. “Look, I think you’re making a mistake. I’m no expert and I hate to toot my own horn... What am I talking about, I love to toot my own horn.” He smiles and winks at Sam. “But... I think this” he gestures over his shoulder at Sam’s paintings, “this is some of your very best work. I mean Klimt-”

“Gabe-”

“Right fuck Klimt, what did he know about art,” Gabriel mutters, his voice taking on an irritated edge. He lets go of Sam’s hand and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Shit Sam, sorry.” He waves a hand and shakes his head, points at his face and says, “Asshole.” The corners of his mouth are turning down into a frown, and Sam’s heart clenches at the sight.

“You’re not an asshole Gabe,” Sam sighs. He rubs a hand over his face, suddenly feeling way too tired. “You did all this for me and it was incredible. I don’t regret it. I’ll never throw these away, but I’m just not sure I can share them with the world, share _you._”

Gabriel’s expression goes soft again at that. “It’s not like you’re passing me around as an hors d’oeurve at a dinner party cum orgy, but,” he holds his finger up as Sam opens his mouth up to argue again, “it’s your decision Sam.”

He smiles up at Sam, one of his brilliant dimpled smiles, and Sam can’t help but bend over and capture his mouth in a small kiss.

A quiet beep in the stillness of the room, makes them both start and jump apart.

“Shit,” Gabriel yelps, staring wide eyed at the offending wristwatch. “When the hell did it get to be so late, early, crap?” He runs his hands through his messy hair, making it stick out in all directions, even more than it already was. He grabs his leather jacket from the peg on the side of the janitors cart, pulls it on hurriedly, and starts to wheel the cart back towards it’s closet.

Sam smiles after him, before bending down to quickly, but carefully, slip the drawings into his portfolio case.

~~~

They sneak out of the back door to the building, just as Garth’s shift is due to start. The November air is bitingly cold at this time in the morning. Sam pulls a shivering Gabriel against his side, and they walk quickly around, and away from the building. Once they’ve reached a safe distance, one which makes it look like they’re eager student and staff member, arriving early instead of leaving at a weird hour, they turn to face each other.

Despite the cold and severe lack of layers, Gabriel is looking up at him with a dopily happy smile on his face.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Sam asks.

“Wow, you’re a real stud muffin aren’t you?” Gabriel smirks.

Sam rolls his eyes. “To sleep Gabe, just to sleep. My place is closer and you’re freezing.”

Gabriel shivers and starts to nod, but then he slaps a hand against his forehead. “The cougars. Shit, I forgot about the cougars. No can do Sammy.” He looks at his watch and sighs heavily.

“Cougars?” Sam asks, one eyebrow raised and a small smile playing on his lips.

“My fortnightly retiree life drawing class,” Gabriel frowns. “I told you about them didn’t I?”

Sam just shakes his head, his smile widening into a grin.

“2 or three of them can actually draw. One of them’s a professional. But the rest of them?” Gabriel smirks, a mischievious glint in his eyes. “Just there to check out the goods, sans wrappings.”

“You mean, they get a boy toy to drool over, whilst pretending to be super cultural?” Sam quirks an eyebrow.

“Bingo. I’m their 50 Shades, but waaaaaay more sophisticated.”

Sam laughs and leans forward to press a kiss to the tip of Gabriel’s nose, that’s turned pink from the cold. “Way more sophisticated.”

He puts his free hand in his pocket and hunches his shoulders. It’s way too cold to stand around like this, and he’s on his last reserves of energy, but he’s reluctant to leave.

Gabriel just smiles at him for a few moments, clearly finding it just as difficult to part ways. But eventually he shrugs his shoulders. “Anyhoo, got to get my beauty sleep. And if I get into bed with you,” he gives Sam an exaggerated wink, “sleep’s not gonna be on the agenda.”

He scrunches up his face, rubs his eyes, and stifles a yawn, before looking up at Sam with what can only be described as a shy smile. “Rain check?”

Sam gives him what feels like a dopey smile in return. “Yeah rain check.”

Gabriel hunches his shoulders and starts to turn to leave, but Sam grabs his arm, “Hold on a sec.”

He puts down his portfolio, quickly unwinds his scarf, and gently wraps it around Gabriel’s neck.

Gabriel huffs, “There you go being self sacrificing again,” but he smiles at Sam, clearly greatful for the gesture. He looks adorably snug in Sam’s scarf, with the beanie hat pulled down over his brow. Sam wants to kiss him again, but Gabriel beats him to it, standing on tiptoe and pressing a chaste kiss to Sam’s lips.

With that final touch, he turns and leaves. Sam stands in the frigid air and watches for a moment, hardly feeling the cold, as there’s a warmth spreading from the pit of his belly, chasing the chill from his bones.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an incredible night, Sam is feeling blissfully happy, but he's rudely awakened the next morning by the strains of Asia's "Heat of the Moment" and things only go downhill from there...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sleep deprived Sam doesn't have the best of days, but there's a boat load of fluffy feelings to keep him going. A.k.a. Sam is a teenage girl

Sam awakes to the sound of Asia’s “Heat of the Moment” blaring over the radio and his brother singing along quite tunelessly. Christ, it’s way too early for that- Except it isn’t, he quickly realises, as he stares with bleary eyes at his bedside clock. Why the hell didn’t he think to set an alarm? It’s 11.30 already and he has an art history lecture in a little over an hour, all the way across campus. _Shit._

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and rolls out of bed. His legs are aching and his eyes don’t want to stay all the way open. One cautious sniff under his arm pit, confirms his suspicions that he really can’t forgo a shower. With a heavy sigh, he grabs a towel, and heads for the bathroom across the hallway.

After cleaning his teeth, he strips, and steps into the shower. As the warm water falls over his aching body, his mind drifts back to last night. It all feels like a dream. Watching Gabriel as his hands explored his own body, fingers delving deep inside. Watching him come apart so beautifully. Inevitably, Sam’s body starts to react to the memories. He stares down the length of his body at his thickening dick and sighs. Gabriel has turned him into a horny teenager, but _christ_, he really doesn’t have time for this. He can’t help but notice the deep bruise surrounding one nipple, suspiciously teeth shaped around the edges. It still feels a little sensitive. It’s not an entirely unpleasant sensation however, and that realisation brings with it a fresh set of memories. _Fuck._ He turns the shower temperature right down, yelps in shock at the sensation of cold water hitting his back, and scrambles out of the shower in a hurry, almost getting tangled up in the shower curtain in his haste. Well at least he’s awake now.

Back in his room, he towels himself down as quickly as humanly possible and pulls on some fresh clothes, which promptly stick to his still damp skin, hissing slightly as the fabric drags over the sensitive skin around his nipple. He grabs his cellphone and backpack and checks his messages as he walks through to the kitchen. No new messages from Gabriel. That’s pretty unusual, but he figures Gabriel either slept in or is being kept busy with his “cougars”. Sam snorts at the mental image that brings up, before pocketing his cell.

“Dude Asia?” Sam can’t help but tease as he rounds the corner and spies his brother getting ready for work.

Dean looks up from tying the laces on his boot. “You love that song and you know it.” He frowns. “Thought you already left.”

Sam sighs and runs his fingers through his damp hair. “I should have, half an hour ago.” He grabs the coffee pot and looks with distaste at the contents. Stone cold and kinda sludgy and he doesn’t have enough time to make a fresh pot.

He can feel Dean’s eyes on him. “Working late last night again?”

Sam just grunts in reply.

“Dude you gotta take a break once in awhile. You look like crap. Roadhouse tonight, my treat.”

Sam turns around and scoffs at him.

“Ok I’ll at least buy you a beer...” Dean trails off, looking his brother up and down. “Wait a second, something’s different...”

Sam feels his cheeks start to heat up. “Gotta go Dean.”

He swirls on his heel and heads for the door, grabbing his keys from the counter on his way past, and snagging his winter coat from the coat hooks along the wall.

“Hang on, was _Gabriel_ working late last night too? He’s a janitor too isn’t he? Were you actually working? Or playing seven minutes in heaven in the dark room?”

Sam spins back around when he reaches the door and throws Dean his very best bitchface. “Goodbye Dean.”

“Gotta say Sammy, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Dean shouts after him as he makes a hasty retreat, slamming the door behind him.

How the hell had his brother known? Ok, so what he’d guessed at wasn’t half as crazy as the truth, but did Sam have, _I had hot passionate sex with Gabriel in the art school last night_, tattooed on his forehead? Sometimes his brother can read him a little too well for comfort. Sam shrugs on his winter coat, picks up his gear, and heads off towards the art building at a trot.

The temperature hasn’t picked up much, so he shoves his hands deep into his pockets, only to feel an unexpected object taking up space in the left one. He pulls it out and grins when he realises what it is. Somehow, without Sam noticing, Gabriel had left him “breakfast”. Barely slowing down, he tears the wrapper and takes a large bite. While not exactly his usual healthy start to the day, the sugar rush is exactly what he needs right now. _Thanks Gabe_, he thinks to himself as he redoubles his effort.

~~~

He makes it just in time. Breathing heavily, he slumps into the seat beside Charlie as the Professor finishes checking his notes and looks up at the class. He shoots Sam an stern look. “So glad you have decided to grace us with your presence today Mr Winchester.” Someone near the front makes a tutting noise and Sam knows without looking that it’s Zachariah.

“Uh sorry I.. uh-” Sam begins, but he falls slient as the Professor glares at him one more time and walks over to the projector.

Sam quickly shucks his coat and rummages in his backpack, soon realising that it contains the materials from last night, and _crap_, a bottle of _lube_. Definitely not his notebook and pen. He quickly zips the bag before anyone can see the contents and sits back rubbing a hand over his face.

Someone clears their throat and he looks to his side as Charlie nudges some loose sheets of paper and a pencil in his direction. She gives him a knowing look, before turning her attention back to the Professor, and Sam feels his cheeks heating again. Crap, does _Charlie_ suspect something now? He sinks further back into his seat, hoping it might swallow him whole. He had the best night of his life last night, but today the universe has decided he’s going to pay for it.

~~~

Sam feels his eyelids begin to droop again and he blinks them open. He loves art history, does a fair amount of research himself, knowing that there’s such a wealth of knowledge, technique and insight to be gleened from the past, but the Professor of this module has such a monotonous voice, and with so little sleep and no caffeine... He’s running on empty and he’s desperately willing the time to pass more quickly. Maybe after lunch and a gallon of coffee, he might feel more human again...

A sharp kick to the shin startles him awake a moment later, the after images of honey gold eyes and beautifully quirked lips swimming in front of his vision. He shoots Charlie a half formed bitchface, but she looks completely unrepentant. _You were drooling_, she mouths at him. Wiping at the corner of his mouth, yeah ok, so maybe a little, he shoots her another annoyed look, before turning his attention back to the Professor.

There’s an image of one of Klimt’s most controversial paintings projected on the screen. _Jurisprudence_, Sam’s brain supplies. Sam remembers reading that the painting had caused a huge scandal at the time, seen by many as “pornography” and a “perverted excess.” Unbidden, his memory drifts back to that day in the library.

Gabriel had tagged along to “keep him company”, but was generally being somewhat of a distraction. As Sam flipped the page, Gabriel had leaned over his shoulder and whistled low in his ear, as he took in one of Klimt’s most intimate sketches. He had then pressed even closer to Sam, and in a low seductive purr whispered, “I could do that.” Sam had shivered as Gabriel’s lips brushed against his ear, hot breath tickling his skin...

He shivers as the memory fades. He feels Charlie’s gaze on him again, but he really doesn’t want to see just how much she read into that reaction.

When will this lecture ever end? He desperately needs to go splash some water on his face, mainline some caffeine, or maybe just find a cupboard to curl up and fall asleep in. He’s beyond exhausted, and every time he tries to focus, his sleep deprived brain drifts into replaying memories, memories that seem more like fantasy than reality. All he can think of, _Gabriel_. Gabriel’s dimpled smile. Gabriel’s laugh. Gabriel’s eyes. The gold strands shining in Gabriel’s hair. Gabriel’s dick... _No_, he cannot go there right now. He shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. And startles when he feels a vibration against his thigh.

He flicks his eyes up to check the Professor’s not looking in his direction, and biting his lip, eases his cell from his pocket. This isn’t the sort of thing he’d normally do, he’s always been the model student, but today he just can’t stop himself. He can’t stop thinking about Gabriel, and he desperately needs to know if the other man is thinking about him too.

Quickly unlocking his phone, he checks the notifications. There’s a new Whatsapp message. He flicks his eyes up again. Still safe? _So far_. Can he chance it? _Fuck it_. He thumbs the app open, his heart speeding up as he sees the message _is_ from Gabriel. Well aware he’s acting like a teenage girl. His stomach doing a little flip flop in anticipation, he opens the conversation.

And there, staring up at him, is the most ridiculous selfie Sam has ever seen. Gabriel is staring into the lens with a wide eyed ‘deer in headlights’ expression. Over one shoulder, is leaning a spritely looking senior citizen with a devilish twinkle in her eye, appearing to have been caught in act of moving in to nibble on Gabriel’s earlobe. The rather elegant old lady on Gabriel’s other side, is winking at the camera as she draws the fabric of his robe open, baring his naked chest.

Sam is utterly helpless to stop the snort of laughter that escapes his mouth. It sounds far too loud in the hushed quiet of the dimmed lecture theatre. Suddenly panicked, he tries to cover it with a cough, but the Professor isn’t stupid.

“Care to share something with the class Winchester,” he snaps, glowering in Sam’s direction.

The whole of the lecture theatre turns to face him and he feels his face flush an impressive shade of red. Most of the students are smirking at him, some are looking annoyed, Zachariah is glaring daggers at him. For the second time that day, Sam wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

~~~

It’s finally over. Sam slumps in his chair in relief, as the other students start to file out of the room. In the end he had lucked out, narrowly avoiding having his phone confiscated. Whether the Professor thought he’d suffered enough embarassment, or just couldn’t be bothered, Sam’s not entirely sure.

“Sooooo Noob.” Charlie’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. He almost forgot she was there. Sam pales at the glint he sees in her eyes. “Care to share with the class?”

“Uh got to go, Charlie. Stuff to um do,” he stutters out as he grabs his papers, bag and coat, and hightails it out of the theatre.

“Hey wait up!” Charlie shouts after him, but he really can’t face the interrogations right now. Charlie has the sharpest mind of anyone he knows, and Sam’s brain just isn’t working well enough to negotiate around the awkward questions. Charlie knows he and Gabriel have started dating, they’ve hardly kept it a secret. Sam isn’t ashamed of their relationship, but he has a feeling that if he sticks around now, she’ll see right through him like Dean did, and know exactly what they _did_, or at least come close to it. As it is, he’s really not sure he’ll be able to keep a straight face at the next life drawing lesson... But he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. For now though, he’s willing to take the cowards way out. Juggling all his belongings in his arms, he speeds up, heading fast in the direction of the canteen.

~~~

He’s not hiding, he really isn’t. Socialisation’s just beyond him right now. So here he is, sitting with his meagre “picnic” on the hard floor of the basement corridor. It’s not too uncomfortable or freezing cold or... At this point he’s feeling pretty sorry for himself. Cradling his hot coffee in one hand, he flips open his cellphone with his other. There’s no reception down here, but he switched it back on, on the way here, and a new message is waiting for him.

_Aw Samshine, not jealous are you?_

Sam smiles to himself. He sets down the coffee, flips the camera to face him and levels his best bitchface at the lens. It won’t send until he’s out of the basement, but he queues it up anyway.

Picking up his coffee and pulling his coat tighter around him, he flicks up the last image Gabriel sent him. He finds himself laughing again at the absurdity of it. Then he finds himself just staring at Gabriel. It’s utterly ridiculous, but he already misses him so much.

~~~

The afternoon thankfully passes a little more quickly. He only has a 2 hour 3D Media class and he finds himself getting lost in his own thoughts, as his hands manipulate the clay. He has no real plan or focus, but apparently he must be doing something right, because his tutor proclaims his work to be inspired and shows it off to the whole class. Maybe he should always come to class this sleep deprived.

It’s with great relief that he finally finds himself heading home, thankful that he hasn’t bumped into any more people he knows. His cell vibrates against his leg. He pulls it out and flips it open. Gabriel’s next message just consists of the eye roll emoji. It’s time to pull out the big guns. Checking to see that no one’s right behind him, Sam flips the camera on himself again, and captures a full on puppy dog eyes. It looks even more impressive, given how weary and pathetic he looks right now. It doesn’t take Gabriel long to reply.

_Oh come on! That just isn’t playing fair._

Then a string of kissy emojis.

Then a big beating red heart.

Sam sends one back. Smiling to himself, he pockets the phone, hunches his shoulders against the cold, and lengthens his stride.

The apartment is blissfully silent. He dumps his rucksack and coat in a heap by the kitchen table, and heads through to his room. He strips to his under shirt and boxers, and slips under the duvet, sighing in relief as his head hits the pillow. His cellphone chooses that very moment to vibrate against the floor. He really should just leave it, but it might be Gabriel, so he quickly retrieves it before flopping back onto the bed again, pulling the covers around himself.

When he pulls up the next message his heart stutters in his chest. Gabriel has sent him another image. He’s bundled up in his covers, hair spread out on his pillow, duvet pulled up in front, so Sam can only see sleepy eyes, a nose, and the quirked corner of his lips. The shoulder of the arm holding the phone, is clad in a plain white t-shirt. He looks utterly adorable. Sam can’t help but fantasise about what it would be like to wake up to that view. To snuggle closer to his warmth, to snake an arm around his waist, to press a good morning kiss to the tip of his nose. Maybe have some slow, gentle morning sex, maybe just lie there in each others arms until one of them, probably Sam, decided they desperately needed a coffee.

The phone vibrates again. Gabriel has sent a tagline.

_#feelincute_

Then a second later.

_#thinkinaboutyoufuckinmeintothematress_

Sam snorts out a surprised laugh. Yeah, that’s the Gabriel he knows and loves.

Sam scrunches his hair up a bit, to give himself a bit of a bedhead. Then putting on his best sultry expression, he takes a picture and sends it to Gabriel, following shortly with a tagline.

_#feelinghorny_

_#thinkingaboutfuckingyourbrainsout_

Gabriel’s reply is a nonsensical string of letters, followed by a string of emojis, and then a string of characters that look like they’re supposed to represent a penis. Sam laughs, and when no further messages are forethcoming, he places the phone on his nightstand, and settles back into bed.

He’s just starting to drift off, when his phone vibratrates again. Bleary eyed, he picks it up and flips open his messages. There are two from Gabriel.

_Nite Sam._

_Love you._

With a warm feeling spreading through his body, Sam types up and sends his reply. Replacing his phone, he’s asleep almost as soon as his head hits his pillow.

_Afternoon you mean... Love you Gabe xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find a satisfactory way to distinguish the phone messages from thoughts. Blockquotes just looked clunky. I hope it's clear enough from the text, but if you're having issues let me know and I'll add a '>' character or something to the start.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel spend the next few days apart, their respective schedules too busy and mismatched. That doesn't mean they aren't thinking about eachother though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is a bit of a selfie whore. Sam's really not complaining. Dean definitely is.

Thanksgiving is rapidly approaching and life is getting way too hectic. Their respective schedules aren’t matching up and they’re both getting more than a little frustrated. Sam doesn’t have many exams, just for the two art history modules he’s taking this semester, but his work is due to be assessed during exam week and he has a lot of catching up to do. Gabriel on the other hand, has been picking up as many extra shifts as he can, in order to pay for his flight to San Fransisco.

Every year, he and his brothers take part in a huge family gathering that his Aunt organises. Extended family members fly in from as far flung reaches as England, and they all bond over way too much food and drink, argue a lot, drink some more, make up, and engage in what Gabriel refers to as “high jinks”. Sam is sorry he’ll miss it. Gabriel had invited him not long after they’d started to date, but it had just seemed a little too early, and Sam had been afraid he’d be intruding, so he’d declined. Cost and school work would have been an issue anyway. Maybe next year Sam thinks, then smiles to himself, it’s been a long time since he’s thought so long term about someone.

Sam’s next life drawing class comes and goes, and he doesn’t feel nearly as awkward as he thought he would. It probably helps that the model is a tall middle aged red headed woman, and Sam is able to get lost in the work, rather than having to watch Gabriel and not be able to touch him.

Charlie amazingly, hasn’t given him shit about his weird behaviour the other day. She’s been spending too many late nights coding, trying to get a head start on her senior project. When they do converse, it’s mostly small talk about the latest show on Netflix, or a run down of her weekly D&D sessions.

His brother of course, does give him shit, but he’s used to it, so he finds it easy to ignore him.

Several days have passed since he last saw Gabriel, and Sam misses him like crazy. They’ve kept up an almost constant stream of messages. Gabriel sends him random jokes and hilarious anecdotes, mostly concerning his oddball brothers. On one occasion, he sends Sam a running commentary on Dean and Castiel’s extended “eye fucking” session over beers at the Roadhouse. Neither of them can understand why the two haven’t gotten their shit together yet. There was that one time on Hallowe’en, when things had gotten heated between them, but Dean seems to have resolutely “forgotten” about it. He hadn’t been _that_ drunk. Sam had been considerably more inebriated and he remembers everything, well almost everything.

Then again, there wasn’t much chance of him forgetting his first kiss with Gabriel: pressing him against the back wall of the Roadhouse, large costume wings getting crushed against the brickwork, one hand sliding into Gabriel’s hair, which was more tightly curled than normal and sprayed with glitter, the other hand sliding down one bared shoulder to the left side of his chest, uncovered by the skimpy toga he was wearing. Sam thinks about that night often, so glad he finally got his head out of his ass. So glad he got over himself long enough to realise that there really wasn’t anything holding him back. Nothing but himself and the guilt he had carried for far too long. So glad that Gabriel hadn’t given up on him.

During their days apart, Gabriel sends him lots of pictures too, weird or funny things he encounters in his day to day life. Some pretty humourous images of his older brother Luke trying to hit on a woman at the bar and terrifying her instead, several images of Dean and Cas’ eye fucking session, but mostly the pictures show Gabriel himself.

Adorable sleepy bedheaded images, that make Sam’s heart ache with longing. An amusing assortment of ridiculous expressions, showing Gabriel’s reactions to the wierdness of his brothers or asshole customers at the bar. And then there are the images that really get Sam’s heart racing. Gabriel doesn’t send him anything so crass as a dick pic, but the images he does send are certainly teasing, certainly provocative.

Often there’s a humourous side to them. Like the image Gabriel sent him yesterday, showing his body from the waist up, sprawled across his bed, with Nutella painted across his naked chest and strawberries strategically placed over his nipples and belly button, large Nutella arrows pointing downwards, his expression caught mid eyebrow wiggle, with the tagline #breakfastisserved. Sam had nearly choked on his OJ when he checked his messages that morning. Dean had patted his back, then screwed up his face when he caught sight of the image over Sam’s shoulder and muttered something about being scarred for life.

When Sam relayed what had happened, Gabriel had promised to sneak into Cas’ appartment when he was showering, and send “Dean-o” a “full frontal” as way of apology.

Other times the images were simply seductive. Late on Wednesday evening, Gabriel had sent him an image that had sent the blood rushing straight to Sam’s groin.

As Sam lies in bed on Friday morning, he pulls up the image again. He can’t seem to stop looking at this one. Gabriel must have propped his phone up somewhere and set the timer, as the image almost shows the full length of his body. In the picture, he’s leaning one hip against a desk and he’s wearing nothing but his janitor’s uniform, belt unbuckled, unbuttoned all the way down to his pubic hair, which is springing up enticingly from the v where the fabric meets. Unlike the majority of life models Sam has encountered, Gabriel isn’t waxed or neatly trimmed down there, but is rather pleasingly natural. One hand is pulling the opening of the uniform further open, exposing one pert nipple, the other holding a bright red lollipop to his lips. It’s the single most erotic photograph Sam thinks he’s ever seen. (Given that Dean doesn’t own a laptop of his own, and steals Sam’s for certain _entertainments_, that’s saying something). Showing just enough to tease and promising so much more.

As Sam stares at the captivating expanse of pale skin, at the wild curls of pubic hair, at slightly parted lips, he feels his body start to react. Hearing no sign of Dean being up, he thinks, _what the hell_, reaches a hand under the covers, and pulls his rapidly hardening length from his boxers. As he starts to stroke himself gently, he lets his imagination take over. He pictures himself walking in to a room and finding Gabriel exactly like this...

_He doesn’t startle, he’s expecting Sam, waiting for him especially, body so perfectly on display. As Sam walks into the room he merely looks up, golden eyes catching hold of Sam’s gaze. He opens his mouth and sucks the lollipop in, then pulls it out, swirling his tongue around it suggestively._

Sam bites back a gasp as he briefly pictures that mobile tongue swirling around the head of his cock, before returning to the fantasy...

_Sam stalks forward, shedding his clothes as he goes. In this fantasy world, they fall away easily, with no fumbling over buttons, or tripping over caught fabric. Gabriel just watches him, golden eyes almost predatory. When he reaches Gabriel, he’s miraculously naked. Gabriel drops the lollipop and grabs Sam roughly forward, needy hands grasping almost painfully at his hips. Sam lets himself be pulled against Gabriel’s body, and revels at the feel of Gabriel’s skin where it presses against him, the rough fabric of his janitor’s uniform proving an interesting contrast. Gabriel’s clever hands are roaming all over his body, worshipping, teasing, pulling pleasure from him with the simplest of touches._

Sam’s own hands echo the movements of his fantasy Gabriel. He bites his lip, trying to hold back the sounds he desperately wants to make...

_Sam tilts Gabriel’s head up and captures his mouth in a deep, filthy kiss. Gabriel groans into his mouth and fists his hands in Sam’s hair. In reality, his neck would probably be cramping right now, but in fantasy land he feels like he could stay here forever, devouring Gabriel’s mouth. His own hand reaches into the curls at the back of Gabriel’s neck, and he buries his fingers there, relishing the softness of the golden brown strands. With his other hand, he thumbs open the last two buttons of Gabriel’s uniform and pulls his length free. Gabriel gasps into his mouth as Sam begins to stroke him._

_The imagined feel of Gabriel silky skin in his palm is delicious, but he wants more. Letting go of a protesting Gabriel, he lifts his body easily and props him on the edge of the desk. Now they’re lined up perfectly. He steps into the v of Gabriel’s legs and wraps one hand around both their lengths._

Sam can’t really simulate this properly, but he imagines the best he can. Imagines the smooth slide of heated skin, slick with precome. He’s getting close now, breath heavy and ragged...

_Gabriel is making obscene noises as Sam pumps their erections together. He’s grasping desperately at Sam’s bicep with one hand, and twisting and pinching a nipple with the other and..._

_Fuck..._

Sam comes with a start, biting back a cry of pleasure, wetness spreading over his belly and sheets.

His breathing is just beginning to even out when his phone vibrates beside him. He reaches for it with his clean hand, and awkwardly flips it on. There’s a new picture from Gabriel. Sam’s heart stutters in his chest when he opens it. The image is in black and white. Gabriel is wearing a plain light coloured t-shirt. The arm not holding his phone is stretched upwards, hand resting behind his head, arm muscles perfectly defined. He’s not quite looking at the camera, just staring off into the distance, the barest hint of a smile on slightly parted lips. It’s a classic life drawing pose, artistically framed, with a soft light falling across Gabriel’s features. It’s stunningly beautiful. As Sam stares at the image, his heart aches. He desperately needs to see Gabriel.

A moment later a tagline appears.

_Some morning inspiration._

And a moment after that.

_Can’t wait to see you today Samshine._

Sam’s heart flips in his chest. He checks his watch. It’s Friday. Life drawing... A small part of him should probably feel a little nervous at the prospect of seeing Gabriel naked in the life drawing room again, but most of him is just incredibly relieved. It’s only been a few days, but he misses Gabriel like crazy. His phone vibrates again.

_Left hand just aint cutting it._

Sam snorts out a laugh.

_I know exactly what you mean_, Sam replies.

With a dopey smile on his face, Sam cleans himself up, bundles his spoiled sheets and heads to the shower.

A few minutes later, still dripping wet and with only a skimpy towel around his waist, Sam snaps a quick image of himself and a sends it to Gabriel. With a smirk curling his lips, he types out a tagline.

_#wetforyou_

It doesn’t take Gabriel long to reply. It’s an extreme close up of his face, hilariously screwed up. A second later the tagline appears.

_#justcame_

Sam’s laugh is so loud that Dean thumps a fist against the wall.

“Dude, what the fuck’s going on in there?” his brother’s voice comes through the wall, making Sam laugh even more. “Is that little fucker in there with you?”

“You’d definitely hear him if he was,” Sam yells back. A wide grin stretching across his face he adds, “He’s a screamer.”

Dean’s only reply, is a string of muffled obscenities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter's a little short, it made more sense to break it down this way. Hope Sam's little fantasy provides ample fun anyway. Thanks so much for the kudos, it really means a lot x


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few days separation, Sam and Gabriel are reunited in the life drawing room. Things are easier than he thought they would be, that is until he realises he's forgotten something important.
> 
> [EDIT: ooh look new sketch/illustration! Just a note: this isn't supposed to be Sam's work, he's got way more talent than me. Enjoy!]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for homophobia (non verbal, non violent, but still very much there)*  
We have a little brief POV change in one section. Hopefully it makes sense why I've done this and provides a little insight into Sam's talent.

As Sam waits at his easel for the class to start, he feels relaxed and deliriously happy. He pins a sheet of cartridge paper to his board and sorts through his materials.

“Sup Noob?”

Sam looks up to see Charlie smiling at him, as she moves behind the easel next to him and dumps her folder and rucksack in a heap beside her.

Sam shakes his head and smiles back. “Charlie, I’ve been here for almost 3 months, when are you going to stop calling me Noob?”

She pauses and hold her chin in her fingers as she pretends to think it through. “Uh never.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head again. They fall into easy conversation as they both prepare their workspaces. Charlie tells him about the progress she’s making on the game she’s developing for her senior project. Sam’s fairly skilled with technology, but his programming skills don’t come close to matching Charlie’s, and Sam is impressed with just how much she’s achieved in such a short time. Charlie asks him if he has any ideas about the direction of his own project. The question should make him panic as he still doesn’t have a clue, but nothing can tarnish the happy feeling in his chest today. He just shrugs and shakes his head. _No idea._ Charlie shrugs one shoulder and smiles at him. _You’ll figure it out_, she seems to say with just one look.

She turns away and looks up, a small smile playing on her lips as she waves. Sam looks round to see what she’s looking at, a broad smile spreading across his features as he realises who it is. _Gabriel._

Gabriel waves briefly at Charlie, before turning his attention to Sam, a brilliant dimpled smile lighting up his features. Sam’s heart skips a beat at the sight. Gabriel walks towards his easel and Sam can’t take his eyes off him. He’s vaguely aware that people are looking at them curiously, but at that moment Sam doesn’t care one bit.

When Gabriel reaches him, he looks into Sam’s eyes for a moment, before rising up on his tip toes to press a gentle kiss to Sam’s lips. Sam dips his head and kisses back lightly, hand coming up to cup his jawline, thumb brushing briefly over his cheekbone. As kisses go, it’s soft, brief and relatively chaste, but it feels incredible.

When they part, Sam feels his cheeks heating up. He can definitely feel eyes on them now. They haven’t kept their relationship a secret, but neither have they particularly advertised it to the class. As his eyes dart up to take in the rest of the class, he notes with relief that most of the class are smiling. One of two are averting their eyes, hiding smirks behind their hands. One petite blond, Becky he thinks her name is, looks oddly delirious, like all her Christmasses have come at once. But then his eyes catch Zachariah’s expression. Zachariah is glaring at them with undisguised disgust written all over his features. Suddenly Sam doesn’t feel embarassed anymore, and he certainly doesn’t feel the shame Zachariah seems to think he should, instead he feels his blood begin boil. He glares back at Zachariah, daring him to say something.

He can feel Gabriel turn around beside him and shifts his focus. Gabriel is frowning, then when he takes in Zachariah’s expression, he merely chuckles, waves a hand at him, drawls, “Hey Zachy,” and then he’s roughly grabbing the front of Sam’s shirt, pulling him down into what promises to be a far less modest meeting of lips. But before Gabriel can ravish his mouth in full view of the class, someone clears their throat loudly behind them. Gabriel lets go of Sam’s shirt, somewhat reluctantly, and they both turn around. Ellen is standing there looking at them, with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

“You boys want to save the PDAs until _after_ class,” she says in a stern voice, but Sam can see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes and the smile tugging at her lips.

Sam dips his head, and gives her a sheepish smile and nod, cheeks going pink again. Gabriel frowns, scrunches up his face, and opens his mouth to presumably protest, but he shuts it again at the pointed look Ellen throws his way. Rolling his eyes, he steps over to the platform and drops his robe, crosses his arms over his chest, and waits for instruction, pouting like a petulant child who’s just been told off by his mother.

Sam winces and gives Ellen an apologetic look.

“It’s your funeral Winchester,” Ellen says, shaking her head. But Sam doesn’t miss the way she looks over at Gabriel fondly.

Ellen is well known for picking up strays, and the Novaks certainly fit the bill, especially the impetuous, wayward Gabriel. Ellen turns her attention back to Sam, and gives him the smallest nod and smile, before turning back to tutor mode and addressing the whole class. However fleeting, Sam knows in that moment that Ellen approves of Sam, and approves of their relationship, and that somehow means so much more than all the disgust and disdain that the likes of Zachariah can throw their way.

Sam feels the tension begin to uncoil from his body. The people who really matter are with them, will fight in their corner, and that’s all that really matters.

~~~

Somehow it doesn’t feel weird or awkward. Sam soon finds himself relaxing into the class and getting lost in the process. Gabriel is thankfully being entirely professional. He isn’t flirting with Sam, perhaps knowing how difficult that would make things now for both of them, too many memories conjured up, too much scope for inappropriate bodily reactions. Such considerations haven’t always mattered to him of course, but emotions are running that much higher between them, and Sam is relieved that Gabriel seems to understand that too. Sam isn’t entirely uneffected by the sight of Gabriel’s gloriously naked body, but he finds he can step back a little from the raw edge of it, and concentrate on what he’s trying to achieve.

Gabriel keeps his gaze resolutely away from Sam as he moves through the series of short warm up poses, only smiling at him briefly, before looking away, as he’s turned to face Sam head on.

Sam is vaguely aware that Ellen is moving around the class asking to see their portfolios, before drawing them away to her office for a brief discussion. Something to do with the upcoming mid year exhibition, he thinks absently. When Ellen approaches him, he’s so absorbed in his work, that he simply nods his head at her request, and doesn’t think any more of it.

~~~

Ellen has been looking forward to leafing through this portfolio most of all. It’s rare that she gets the pleasure of teaching someone so naturally talented and yet entirely unpretentious. Sam takes instruction so well too. He listens and absorbs, and then does something completely fresh and unexpected.

She carefully unzips the folder and begins leafing through his work. Sam’s been in her class for such a short period of time, and yet there’s a breadth of high quality work here, most of which would fit into an exhibition beautifully. Ellen sighs to herself. She can’t show favouritism here. Every student will be given roughly the same exhibition space, and it’s going to be hard to whittle Sam’s work down to just a few key pieces.

She flips over a few more sheets. The colors there are gorgeous. Beautiful line work here. Exquisite use of light and dark to create form in this one. There’s a real confidence, and yet a definite sensitivity, running through all his work. Ellen does notice one thing as she flips through more and more of his work. His drawings and paintings of Gabriel are starting to stand out.

A small smile plays at the corners of her lips. It’s not exactly unusual for an artist to have a muse and Sam certainly seems to have found his. Of course it’s also not exactly unusual for artists to fall in love with their muses, and today Ellen has finally had her suspicions confirmed on that front. Right from the start, Gabriel hasn’t exactly been subtle about how he feels about Sam. That boy doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body. But Sam, Sam’s feelings were a little harder to read. At first, he looked almost comically confounded by the onslaught of Gabriel’s affections, but Ellen had caught him looking at Gabriel once or twice, with a sort of unconcious wonder, and maybe a little longing.

Ellen flips back a few pages and pulls out a few of Sam’s pieces. Yes, right from that first session. There’s a beautiful charcoal and pastel rendering of Gabriel, cropped right in to portrait format, showing his face in near profile. Most of Ellen’s students struggle with Gabriel’s prominant features, often producing an unflattering characature of him.

Zachariah’s are the worst, Ellen thinks, perhaps owing to the man’s own views on Gabriel’s personality, and some bad blood between the two. Ellen grimaces. She can’t wait until the unpleasant man graduates and she no longer has to deal with his grating overinflated sense of self worth, and poorly concealed bigotries.

Sam though, Sam sees Gabriel in a completely different light. He sees the beauty in Gabriel’s expressive, uniquely handsome face. He portrays Gabriel’s image with a sensitivity and tenderness that only becomes more apparent the further and further Ellen flips through his work. She pulls more pieces out as she flicks through. Yes, this is where his real strength lies, this is his very best work, it’s...

Her hand freezes as she flips to the back of the pile, because this work, this work she hasn’t seen before. And for very good reason.

She carefully pulls the pieces out and lays them side by side. She stands back and stares at them for a long few moments, hardly able to believe what she’s seeing. Sam’s not exactly risk adverse, but this is far beyond anything she would have expected from him. The influence of Klimt and Schiele is clear, no not Schiele Ellen thinks, these definitely show more of the sensitivity she would associate with Klimt, but they’re also definitely very much Sam’s own style. The work is of a very high standard, in line with everything else she has seen from Sam, but this does so much more, this _is_ so much more. It pushes boundaries and it’s bound to ruffle a few feathers along the way.

On top of that though, perhaps most importantly of all, there’s so much passion here. It’s an outpouring of love. Naked and raw, and heart achingly beautiful. If Ellen didn’t know Gabriel so well, she’d worry no end about him breaking Sam’s heart into a million pieces, but she does know Gabriel. She knows with the certainty of any mother hen, that that boy has fallen just as hard and fast.

She pinches the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. There’s no doubt in her mind that these pieces belong in the exhibition, but given Sam’s blushing virgin appearance out there, it’s going to be a hard sell. Ellen’s willing to wager that the boy left these in his portfolio by accident. How can she convince him to take that plunge, to take the biggest risk of his fledgling career. She’s going to need Gabriel’s help, that’s for sure.

With a steely determination, she tidies away Sam’s work, leaving out a pleasing selection that will complement these pieces, and she walks back into the classroom. By the panicked, stricken look on Sam’s face, she can tell in an instant that he has finally realised his mistake. The poor boy. This really will be a hard sell. Thankfully it’s almost lunchtime, which gives her an excuse to dismiss the rest of the class. They’re going to need a fair bit of time and privacy to sort this one out.

~~~

It takes Sam a surprisingly long time to realise what he’s just done. He’s far too engrossed in what he’s doing. Gabriel is facing him for the first 20 minute pose, and he’s positioned almost exactly like he was in the image he sent Sam this morning. Sam has lost himself in the lines and curves of Gabriel’s beautiful form, taking pleasure in describing those perfectly defined arm muscles. For the first time this session, his mind starts to wonder to places it really shouldn’t, starts thinking about pressing Gabriel’s body against a wall, grabbing his wrists, drawing his arms above his head, and holding them there firmly and... _Shit_ he really can’t start to think about that, because if he does, he’ll start to think about that night, and what they did and-

_Holy mother of fuck!_

The pit drops out of Sam’s stomach. He suddenly feels dizzy and nautious. He forgot, how the hell could he forget? Sure, he’d deliberately left the pictures in his folder in the short term, both to protect them, and to make sure his brother didn’t accidentally come upon them while stealing his shit. It had always been his intention to find a better solution. But he’s been so distracted lately. Working long hours and constantly preoccupied with thoughts of Gabriel. And somehow it had slipped his mind.

_Christ_ what is he going to do? He has no idea how Ellen will react. If Sam had chosen to show her this work, he would have prefaced it with a long description of his motivations, a critical defense of sorts, not just left it for her to find like this. Would she throw him out of the course? It seems unlikely, but in his panicked state it feels like a terrible possibility.

The palms of his hands are suddenly sweaty and he drops the brush he was holding. It clatters to the floor, sounding way too loud in the hush of the room. Several students look up, startled, but quickly return to their work, Zachariah giving him an irriated look before doing so. Gabriel glances over and frowns at Sam’s obvious distress. Sam can see his muscles twitch, like he wants to come over to Sam and check on him, so Sam tries to give him a reasuring smile, though he’s not sure he’s convincing anyone.

A moment later, it doesn’t matter. Ellen is walking back into the room, telling everyone they can break for lunch. Everyone except Sam. Gabriel isn’t moving to leave, he’s staring at Sam with a furrowed brow, concern clearly written on his features.

When the class has emptied, Ellen motions for Sam to follow her, turning to Gabriel, she says, “Stop gaping and put your robe on, I need to talk to you too sweetheart.”

Gabriel looks confused, but he pulls on his robe, tying it loosely about his waist as they both follow her into her office.

Sam’s feels numb as he walks into the room and sees the pieces lying out on the office floor. Ellen motions for Gabriel to shut the door behind them. When he turns and catches sight of the artwork, he looks up at Sam with a small smile and mouths, _You changed your mind?_ Sam just shakes his head minutely, lips pressed into a tight line. Gabriel’s face scrunches up into a confused expression again. When Sam finds the courage to look in Ellen’s direction, he finds her just standing there in front of them, arms crossed over her chest, looking back and forth between them like she’s waiting for an explanation.

Sam opens his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s going to say, but he has to say _something_. Before he can utter anything in his defense, Ellen holds up a hand to silence him.

She looks carefully at Sam, then Gabriel, then back again. Sam can’t quite read her expression, but it looks like she’s trying to decide something. Sam’s pulse speeds up. _No, please no._ He can’t loose his place. He’s worked too hard for this.

When Ellen finally starts to speak, Sam struggles to hear her over the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears .

“Before you say anything, hear me out,” she says, looking at Sam intently. “I don’t care how these pictures came about. I don’t want to know what you boys got up to in my life drawing room,” she looks pointedly at Gabriel, who looks completely unabashed. Instead there’s a self satisfied smirk playing about his features, and Sam wants to kick him in the shin, because _fuck’s sake_, way to confirm her suspicions. Ellen rolls her eyes and gives Gabriel a stare that promises she’ll be having words with him later.

“But,” she continues, looking back at Sam, “these belong in the exhibition.”

Sam just gapes at her, unable to believe what he’s just heard.

“Close your mouth boy, you look like a guppy.” Ellen’s eyes are alight with humour for a moment and Sam sees that same fondness he had seen earlier, this time directed at him. His heart clenches in his chest at the sight of it, and he swallows around the lump that suddenly form in his throat.

As she continues though, her expression turns serious. “I’m not going to bullshit you Sam, it’s not going to be a cake walk. There will be some individuals too blinded by their prejudices to see value in your work. They’ll call it pornography and they’ll try to drag your name through the dirt, both of your names.” She looks over at Gabriel. The smirk has gone from his face, but Sam sees a steely determination in his eyes. “It’s going to be a real shitstorm, but I have absolute faith in you boy, and I will defend you and your work to the ends of this earth, come what may. You have a talent that far exceeds your peers,” she glares at Sam when he shakes his head, “and I believe that this is by far the best work you have ever produced. It deserves to be shared with the world Sam, not hidden away.”

“I...,” Sam begins, but his voice cracks straight away and he has to clear his throat. He feels his eyes watering. He realises he doesn’t know what to say. He never expected this, never in a million years. A large part of him wants to say no straight off the bat, tell her exactly what he told Gabriel, because it’s too much. He wouldn’t just be exposing Gabriel, he’d be exposing a large part of himself too he suddenly realises. And he’s afraid. He feels warm fingers tangle with his own and looks up from his feet to see Gabriel there beside him. He grasps hold of Gabriel’s hand, squeezing tightly, a warm sensation spreading through his chest. No matter what he decides, Gabriel will be right here with him.

He opens his mouth to try again. It’s too soon, it’s too risky, he can’t, he... Then unbidden, an image surfaces in his mind. The look on Zachariah’s face. That look of distaste, that look of disgust. All over a simple kiss. And Gabriel, fuck Gabriel had reacted so perfectly. Mocking him, provoking him. Trying to draw him into showing his true colors, even more than he already had. Gabriel hadn’t been ashamed, of course he hadn’t. He hadn’t turned away. He’d faced it and stuck his tongue out at the naked prejudice. All of a sudden, a fire has been lit in Sam’s belly. Suddenly Sam want’s to provoke Zachariah too, Zachariah and all the others just like him. He wants to expose the ugly truth of them.

“I’ll do it.”

Ellen looks surprised, like she thought she’d have to fight him on this, but once she recovers from the shock, a broad smile stretches over her face.

Strong fingers squeeze his hand tightly and he looks round to see Gabriel beaming up at him.

“That’s my boy,” Ellen says proudly, and Sam doesn’t move to question or correct her. If anyone’s going to pick up the mantle his mother was forced to leave all those years ago, he finds he wants it to be her. He doesn’t mind being one of her strays, doesn’t mind one bit.

“Right boys, we have a few things to sort out if we’re going to do this,” Ellen says after a long pause. “I hate to say it, but that means paperwork.” Gabriel groans, beside him.

“Can’t see a world in which this would happen, but if you two love birds ever had an argument and the princess here decides to sue us, it’ll be my ass on the line.” Gabriel opens his mouth to protest, but Ellen just gives him a pointed look. “We’re doing this right or we aren’t doing it at all.”

Ellen looks over at Sam next, “And you’ll have to pay him.” At Sam’s worried look, she adds, “Doesn’t have to be the going rate. Just agree on the price and sign a contract. I’ll draft something up.”

Gabriel has the most ridiculous grin on his face. They’ll both turn to look at him. What could possibly be so funny?

“You’re paying me... to masturbate.” Gabriel laughs so hard he’s struggling to breathe. Sam just rolls his eyes and tries to focus on the matter at hand, but suddenly Gabriel has his hand in Sam’s pocket and he’s rummaging about.

“What... are you... doing,” Sam grits out between clenched teeth, as he tries to swat Gabriel’s hand away. Thankfully Ellen just shakes her head and turns away, starting to look out the paper work they’ll need. She’s clearly more than used to Gabriel’s antics and they don’t phase her anymore.

After a few seconds, Gabriel makes a triumphant noise, and pulls out a folded dollar bill. Sam attempts to throw him a bitchface, but there’s no stopping him now, he’s clearly on a roll.

“Hmm this’ll do,” he proclaims, throwing open his robe, and looking down the length of his body at his groin. “There’s never a G-String around when you need one.”

“Jesus Gabe,” Sam sighs, rubbing a hand across his face.

“As I said Winchester, your funeral,” Ellen supplies helpfully from across the office.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All too soon the life drawing session is over and Gabriel has a flight to catch. They don't have much time, but as always, Gabriel has ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the plot that got in your porn last chapter. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it...

By the time they’ve sorted out all the paper work, lunch break is almost over, but they sit down in the small lunch area in the hallway for a brief reprieve anyway, grabbing a few bites to eat to keep them going through the afternoon session. Sam grabs a free seat next to Charlie and Gabriel drags over a stool and plops himself down next to Sam. They’re sitting way closer than’s actually necessary, Gabriel’s shoulder brushing against Sam’s arm with every movement, but he finds he doesn’t mind in the slightest. He can feel the heat from Gabriel’s body all down one side and it’s comforting.

Charlie smiles widely at them. “Soooo that took a long time, what did Ellen want with you two lovebirds?”

“Uh she was just discussing my work for the exhibition,” Sam says hurriedly, before Gabriel can blurt out anything incriminating. “Gabriel was just waiting for me,” he adds, looking at Gabriel, willing him to go along with the story. Everyone will find out eventually of course, but Sam’s really not ready to deal with the fall out just yet.

“Can’t go having lunch without my Samcakes,” Gabriel chuckles, reaching up to pinch Sam’s cheek. Sam scrunches up his face and gives a long suffering sigh.

“Aw shit, do you guys have to be so sickeningly sweet?” Charlie laughs. “I think Becky’s going to have an aneurysm,” she adds in a low voice, nudging Sam on the shoulder.

Sam looks over as surreptitiously as he can, only to see the girl in question give him a wide eyed, slightly manic grin and a small wave. Sam gives her a small tight smile in return, before hastily averting his eyes.

Gabriel leans further into Sam’s side and whispers a little too loudly in his ear. “You think she’d like to watch us? Maybe we can invite her to our next late night life drawing session.” Sam just glares at him as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Thankfully Sam is saved further embarassment, as Ellen chooses that moment to usher them back into the classroom for the afternoon session. As he clears up the remains of his lunch, Sam happens to glance up and see Zachariah staring in their direction, lip curled up in distaste. Sam gives him a hard stare back, before following Charlie and Gabriel back into the life drawing room.

~~~

The afternoon session passes without incident. Gabriel mostly behaves himself, though Sam catches Ellen having to tell him more than once to stop giving Zachariah all of the worst foreshortening issues. Gabriel pouts, but shifts position.

All too soon, it’s time to pack up. Sam does so at a leisurely pace as Gabriel gets changed behind the screen. Thankfully Friday is a fairly easy day. He should probably be heading to the library for some research or be flipping through his sketchbooks, trying to get some ideas for his senior project, but it’s been too long since he’s seen Gabriel, and he’s hoping they can spend a little time together if Gabriel’s schedule allows.

By the time Gabriel emerges from behind the screen, most of the class has filtered out of the room. Charlie finishes packing and waves goodbye, throwing a, “Later bitches,” over her shoulder.

Sam sighs happily as Gabriel steps into his personal space and throws his arms around Sam’s waist.

“I missed you Samsquatch,” Gabriel says uncharacteristically earnestly.

“I missed you too,” Sam says as he tucks a lock of hair behind Gabriel’s ear and leans down to capture Gabriel’s mouth in a kiss. Gabriel groans into his mouth and rises up onto the balls of his feet, grasping onto the back of Sam’s neck and pulling him roughly down to deepen the kiss. His other hand is half way into the waistband of Sam’s jeans when they hear Ellen clear her throat loudly behind them.

“What have I told you boys about treating my life drawing room like your own personal bedroom. Take it elsewhere.”

Sam jumps apart from a Gabriel who’s still trying to cling to him, his face flaming red.

“Uh sorry,” he stammers, hastily grabbing his things.

“I assume you actually have an apartment? A bed?” Ellen asks, one eyebrow raises. “Might want to make use of it from now on.” She looks pointedly at Gabriel.

“Where’s the fun in that,” he drawls, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re quite capable of using your imagination. Or aren’t you quite as inventive as you pretend to be,” Ellen says with a smirk.

Gabriel opens his mouth to retort, but Sam grabs the back of his jacket and starts pulling him towards the door. “Time to go Gabriel.” Gabriel chuckles, but he allows himself to be dragged.

“You know it makes me hot when you take charge,” he says loud enough for Ellen and probably half the hallway to hear, as Sam finally manages to drag him out of the door way.

They walk side by side, Gabriel trotting to keep up with Sam’s long strides, until they’ve put some distance between themselves and the life drawing room.

“Where are we going?” Gabriel eventually asks, sounding a little out of breath and Sam finally slows his pace and comes to a stop.

“I don’t know,” Sam eventually admits, running his hand over his face. “Sorry I just. That was all kinds of intense. I just,” Sam shrugs sheepishly. He has an awful feeling that he's running away. He was feeling uncomfortable and now he's running. Shit. “Sorry Gabe.”

“Hey,” Gabriel says, looking up at Sam with a soft expression on his face. He reaches up and runs his fingers along Sam’s jawline. “It’s going to be ok. You got this kiddo.” His expression suddenly changes and he purses his lips. “I wasn’t helping was I,” he says dropping his eyes.

Sam takes hold of Gabriel’s hand and weaves their fingers together, holding tightly. “Actually you did,” Sam says. And it’s the truth. Despite the embarassment Sam felt. Gabriel always knows when to break the tension, even if he does it in an overly spectacular fashion, that's just the way he is. “Don’t ever apologise for who you are,” Sam adds as Gabriel looks up into his eyes. “Don’t ever change.”

Gabriel’s face lights up again, he smiles a wide dimpled smile and reaches up to press a brief kiss to the corner of Sam’s mouth. “We don’t have much time,” he sighs.

Sam raises his eyebrows, heart sinking. “We don’t?”

“Sorry Sam-a-lam, flight to catch,” Gabriel says with obvious regret.

“Already?” Sam can hear the whine in his voice, but he can’t seem to help it.

Gabriel presses his lips together into a tight line. “I could ditch the fam,” he says after some consideration.

“No, no of course not,” Sam squeezes his hand, “Family’s important. I won’t ask you to do that. Let’s just make the most of it.”

Gabriel nods his head, not exactly happy. “Okay, follow me kiddo, I’ve got an idea.”

Sam allows himself to be dragged through the hallways, back in the direction of the life drawing class. He frowns slightly, but keeps going.

Finally, Gabriel stops and pulls them over to stand next to a closed door, he leans casually against the wall, motioning for Sam to do the same. They stand there for a few minutes and Sam’s about to ask what they’re waiting for, when Gabriel glances back and forth quickly, pulls a big ring of keys from his pocket, and quickly unlocks the door beside them, ushering Sam inside.

“Are we abusing your janitorial powers Gabe?” Sam asks amused.

“Hells yeah,”Gabriel smirks, and turns to close and lock the door behind them.

They’re in the janitor’s office cum closet Sam realises, looking around him. It’s pokey and smells pretty strongly of cleaning fluid, but at this point Sam’s really not going to be fussy. Most of the space is lined with shelving, housing a plethora of cleaning products, sponges, spare mop heads and a clutter of random objects that have obviously been shoved in here when no one knew what to do with them. A small desk is pushed against the back wall, with a rickety looking chair beside it and a photograph pinned above it. Sam notes with a fond smile that it’s the selfie Gabriel took of them when they’d just begun dating. Gabriel is grinning into the camera, Sam looks more than a little goofy, like he doesn't know what to do with himself.

He doesn’t have time to notice anything else about the room, because suddenly he’s being spun around and backed towards the chair, Gabriel’s tongue demanding access to his mouth, hands grabbing roughly at his clothing. He dips his head and opens his mouth, kissing back just as urgently, his own hands fumbling with the buttons on the front of Gabriel’s shirt.

When the backs of his legs hit the chair, he lets Gabriel guide him down into it. The chair makes a creaking noise under his weight. He’s about to question just how stable the thing is, but Gabriel is determinedly clambering up into his lap, and he’s suddenly a little too busy groaning, because Gabriel is licking and sucking the tender skin of his neck, and it feels incredible.

He tilts his head backwards and to the side to give Gabriel better access, and that’s when he catches sight of the spare uniforms hanging from coat hooks on the wall next to the door. Sam stares at them. Dare he ask? The mere thought makes his cock twitch and his pulse quicken.

“Uh Gabe?” Sam murmurs, stroking his fingers through Gabriel’s hair.

“Hmm?” Gabriel hums against his skin, sending shivers down Sam’s spine.

“You know that uh... that picture you sent me,” Sam stutters as Gabriel licks a stripe up his neck.

Gabriel pulls back, the chair groaning alarmingly as he shifts his weight.

“Oooooh which one?” he asks, eyes alight with mischief.

Sam’s cheeks flush and his eyes flick over to the uniforms. Gabriel cranes his neck and let’s out a low whistle when he catches sight of what Sam’s looking at.

“Hoo boy, I knew you’d like that one you saucy minx.” Gabriel turns back to face Sam long enough to smirk and wiggle his eyebrows, before hoping off of Sam’s knee.

Sam swallows, heat pooling in his groin as Gabriel immediately starts to strip. After staring wide eyed for a few moments, Sam staggers to his feet and begins shedding his clothes too. He tears his gaze away from Gabriel and turns away from him, knowing it will be that much hotter if he waits until Gabriel is ready. When he’s naked, he walks over to the doorway, eyes averted and leans against the door with his eyes closed.

“Fuck Sam, you look like an all you can eat buffet,” Gabriel mutters, somewhere to Sam’s right, “I could spend allllll day licking chocolate sauce from your body.” Sam hears a rustling of fabric, then Gabriel’s voice is a soft purr just short of his ear. “You’d be so hard by the end of it, you’d be begging me to suck you off, make you come.” Sam shivers as he feels Gabriel’s breath against his ear. “Maybe I’d just ride you instead. Would you like that Samshine?”

Gabriel trails a finger all the way down the righthand side of Sam’s torso, stopping when he reaches Sam’s hip. Sam’s whole body shudders at the sensation. He opens his mouth to answer, but he’s afraid his voice will crack, so he just nods his head. Gabriel chuckles and moves away. Sam’s whole body is on edge, tense like a strung bow. This is already so much better than his fantasy and he hasn’t even opened his eyes yet. Of course it is. Gabriel’s really here. Though Sam can’t see him, he can feel his presence and Sam’s body is aching for him.

“Soooooo,” Gabriel says, his voice coming this time from across the room. “You knocked over your paint pot?... Spilt it all in your lap?...Need me to mop it up for you?”

Sam snorts, “You sound like a bad porno.”

Gabriel makes an odd noise in his throat that sounds half like he’s laughing, half like he’s choking. Sam frowns, “You ok there?”

Gabriel coughs, clears his throat, then simply says, “Uh, I’m ready Sam.”

Sam frowns a little at the abrupt change in tone, the slight waver in Gabriel’s voice, but it’s all forgotten when he opens his eyes and sees Gabriel leaning one hip against the desk, uniform unbuttoned all the way down to his pubic hair and fuck, it’s one of the hottest things Sam’s ever seen. Within the space of a couple of heartbeats, Sam has pushed away from the door and closed the distance between them. He halts just short of Gabriel’s embrace, eyes tracing over the exposed skin. He doesn’t know where to touch first. Gabriel is watching him with dark eyes, pupils blown and only a thin rim of gold visible. His lips are slightly parted and Sam is drawn to that beautiful lower lip. _There_, he thinks, _right there._

He reaches out a hand and traces a thumb over the soft skin, starting at the side where it’s plumpest, slowly drawing his thumb over to where the lip narrows. _Gorgeous._ Ever so slowly, he runs his fingers up Gabriel’s jawline, tugs gently on a sensitive earlobe, and then down the side of his neck. By the time Sam reaches his collarbone, Gabriel is panting heavily and shaking so beautifully under Sam’s caress. His skin is turning that stunning rosy hue and sweat is beginning to bead on his forehead. He’s the most beautiful being Sam has ever seen.

When Sam’s fingers reach the open collar of the uniform, he dips them slightly beneath the rough fabric, before resuming his journey down the length of Gabriel’s body. Following the edge of the opening closely, Sam trails his fingers down one pectoral muscle. The nipple is only just visible, so Sam pulls the fabric aside, just enough to gain proper access. He circles the sensitive flesh with thumb and forefinger. Gabriel’s breath hitches and he reaches out to grab hold of Sam’s other arm. Sam pauses and looks up into Gabriel’s eyes.

“Fuck... don’t stop,” Gabriel hisses out between ragged breaths.

Sam smirks, tightens his fingers around the little nub of flesh, and tugs sharply.

“_Jesus, fuck!_” Gabriel yelps loudly, before clamping a hand over his mouth. They stare wide eyed at eachother, listening for any indication that anyone heard, waiting for a knock on the door. When nothing happens after a few tense moments, they both relax, breathing out the air they were holding.

Gabriel drops his hand and looks at Sam seriously. “I think you might have to gag me.”

Sam snorts out a laugh.

“I’m not kidding Sam.” Gabriel pouts at him, before continuing. “If you’re going to do things like that to me, and I really hope you are, then I can’t keep quiet.”

“Shit,” Sam says, running a hand over his face, “Are you sure? What can we even use?”

Gabriel shrugs and they both look around. Eventually he slips around Sam and walks over to the pile of his clothing, picking up his undershirt. He pulls at the fabric, trying to tear it, but it doesn’t budge. He sighs and walks over to Sam, handing him the shirt. Well practiced at tearing old clothing into rags to use for his art, Sam makes short work of tearing a strip from the bottom. Gabriel grabs the fabric and starts to put it in his mouth, but Sam stops him.

“Wait, how am I going to know if I do something you don’t like.”

“A swift sharp knee to the groin would be a pretty good indication,” Gabriel says with a shrug. He rolls his eyes when Sam gives him a bitchface. “Ok, ok, I’ll kick you in the shin, that better?”

Sam screws up his face a little, surely there’s a slightly less violent solution, but he’s desperate to get his hands on Gabriel’s soft skin again, so he just nods his head and helps Gabriel tie the gag in place.

“Are you ok?” Sam asks, looking into Gabriel’s eyes. Gabriel raises both eyebrows in an exasperated expression and tugs Sam back over to the desk, resuming his previous postion, albeit with his chest pushed forward in obvious invitation.

Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps forward and lifts his hand, brushing fingertips over the swollen flesh of Gabriel’s right nipple. He teases it for a few moments, enjoying the muffled moans Gabriel’s making through the fabric of the gag, before resuming his downward exploration. Gabriel shakes as Sam’s fingers brush over his ribs, grasping tightly around the bicep of Sam’s free arm. Sam brings his hand forward and steadies him, holding onto his hip gently but firmly, as the fingers of his other hand trail down to the softness of Gabriel’s stomach, following the dip between abdominal muscles, just discernable under all that delicious softness.

When Sam finally reaches the v of the opening, the fabric is heavily tented and there’s a small wet patch spreading there. Sam ignores it for a moment, playing with Gabriel’s pubic hair, running his fingers through the coarse curls and tufts, wrapping a curl around his finger, marveling at the golden strands that are even present here, despite the slightly darker tone of most of the hair. Gabriel is whining low in his throat and trying to push his hips forward, but Sam holds him firmly in place.

Eventually the fingers digging into his bicep get a little too painful to ignore, so he thumbs open the last two buttons on Gabriel’s uniform, letting his cock spring free. Sam stands back for a moment to admire the sight. Gabriel is breathing deeply around the gag, skin flushed from his cheeks to the centre of his chest. His uniform has fallen further open, displaying both pink nipples, peaked with arousal. His cock is standing proud, gently curved towards the softness of his belly, leaking at the tip. Sam bites his lip.

“You have no idea how beautiful you look,” Sam says softly.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows in a way that suggests he knows exactly how beautiful he is, but Sam’s seen that little bit uncertainty, heard the words that have occasionally slipped free. Despite the bravado, Gabriel really has no clue. After a few seconds staring, Gabriel makes it very clear he’s getting impatient, pointing back and forth at both their erections and rolling his hips suggestively, before holding both hands up in a 'help me out here' gesture.

Sam laughs, _ok I get the picture._ He steps forward and lifts Gabriel gently, depositing him on the edge of the table, spreading his thighs to give Sam better access. He desperately wants to kiss Gabriel, but he knows they’d be in very real danger of discovery if he removes the gag, so he settles for bending over and burying his face in Gabriel’s neck, breathing in his scent. He sticks his tongue out and licks experimentally at Gabriel’s skin. Enjoying the taste, he sucks a few bruises into the side of Gabriel’s neck, licking over the skin to sooth the sting, hearing Gabriel’s breath hitch as he leaves each new mark.

Gabriel’s hands are roaming over his torso, enjoying their own explorations, but all too soon Sam is reminded to get a move on as Gabriel’s fingers brush against his erection, making him jump and let out a small yelp against Gabriel’s skin.

Sam straightens again and looks down to assess the situation. The height of the table has mostly solved their height difference issues. If he steps forward a little further, pulls Gabriel closer to the edge and bends his knees a little, they’ll be almost perfectly aligned.

After a little shuffling and fumbling, Sam can finally wrap a hand around both of their erections. _Fuck_ that feels amazing. The feel of the silky soft skin of Gabriel’s cock brushing against his own erection, is far more incredible than Sam had imagined. As Sam gives a few experimental strokes, Gabriel throws back his head, a muffled moan escaping through the gag, and stutters his hips forward, almost sliding off the table in the process. Sam uses his free hand to hold Gabriel in place and starts up a rhythm.

It’s a little awkward. The uniform fabric is impeding his movement and it’s starting to chafe where his balls have been rubbing against it. It’s kind of scratchier than he was expecting. _Shit_. He reluctantly lets go of their erections and shuffles back a bit. At the loss of contact, Gabriel’s head whips up and he glares daggers at Sam.

“Hang on Gabe,” Sam says softly.

He tries to tug at the fabric enclosing Gabriel’s groin, but their’s very little wiggle room. Gabriel rolls his eyes and Sam can hear the huff of annoyance even through the gag. He pushes his erection a little way into his uniform and hunches his shoulders before starting to pull his right arm free. Sam steps forward and helps him shrug out of the top half of the uniform, letting it pool around him on the desk. With more freedom to move now, Gabriel pushes the material aside a little and frees both his cock and balls, raises one eyebrow, and waves a hand over his groin. Sam’s not sure if he’s asking if that’s better or motioning for Sam to appreciate the splendor of his dick and testicles, but whichever it is, Sam takes it as an invitation to resume.

“Uh, you don’t happen to have any lube do you?” he asks tentatively as he takes them in hand again. It’s a long shot, but this is Gabriel.

Gabriel rolls his eyes again and wraps his hand part of the way around Sam’s. It doesn’t come close to reaching all the way around, but Sam understands what he wants when he starts dragging Sam’s hand up and down. Sam resumes stroking as Gabriel leans to the side and eases open a desk drawer. He rummages for a few seconds before coming up with a bottle of lube, which he flips open and squirts directly onto the top of their erections.

Sam yelps at the sudden cold sensation. “Jesus Gabe, warn a guy will you.”

Gabriel just snorts, looking utterly unrepentant. Sam sighs and shakes his head. He runs the fingers of his free hand through the excess lube, making Gabriel quirk a questioning eyebrow, and resumes the stroking. As he sets a slow and steady rhythm, he smirks at Gabriel and reaches his fingers behind Gabriel’s balls, and yes, right there. Before Gabriel can react, he slips a finger inside his body. It slides in so easily that Sam has to wonder just how frequently Gabriel pleasures himself in this way. Gabriel’s eyes widen in shock at the sudden intrusion, muscles clenching briefly around Sam’s digit before relaxing again. Gabriel’s eyes narrow at Sam, and he tilts his head to one side. No kick to the shin comes, but Sam knows he’ll pay for that at a later date, in the best possible way.

Sam smirks and starts to slide his finger in and out, with the same rhythm as the hand pumping their cocks together. Gabriel utters a muffled groan and grasps desperately at Sam’s shoulders. He’s tilting his hips a little too, making it easier to access his sweet spot. Sam knows he’s found it when Gabriel’s body suddenly stiffens and his fingers dig almost painfully into Sam’s shoulders. Sam crooks his finger a little more and presses, speeding up the rhythm of his other hand. Gabriel shakes so much he almost falls off the table, but Sam’s body is pressing close enough to keep him perched there.

A pressure is building in the pit of Sam’s belly. He’s close, but he wants Gabriel to ride the wave with him, so he tries to hold on, trying to sense the changes in Gabriel’s body that will tell Sam he’s close too. He speeds up even futher, reveling at the feel of Gabriel’s erection against his own, the delicious heat and just the right amount of friction. He nudges a second finger against Gabriel’s entrance, and edges it in with a few short thrusts. Gabriel’s rocking his hips ever so slightly, up into Sam’s fist and back onto his fingers. His balls are brushing against the inside of Sam’s wrist with the motion. And there’s the sign he was looking for; he can feel Gabriel’s imminent release against his pulse point. Sam presses once more against Gabriel’s sweet spot and lets go, lets the wave crash through him.

The sensations are almost overwhelming as he feels Gabriel’s cock pulse along side his own, his inner walls clenching down on Sam’s fingers, strong hands grabbing at his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. Despite the gag, Gabriel’s groans and ragged breaths sound impossibly loud so close to his ear. He gives their cocks a couple more slow pumps, easing them through the tail end of their orgasms, then just holds them there, pressed together gently. Carefully removing his fingers, he curls forward and buries his head in Gabriel’s neck, breathing heavily into sweat slick skin. He feels Gabriel’s fingers brushing gently through his hair and the press of his cheek against Sam’s head.

They stay there like that for a few long precious minutes, catching their breaths. Then Sam remembers the gag and pulls himself upright, reluctantly letting go of their softened cocks. He looks about for something to wipe his hands on. Finding nothing else nearby, he uses the pooled fabric of the uniform to scrub away the worst of it, and reaches behind Gabriel’s head to finally release the gag. Gabriel looks completely wrecked, a stunned look on his face, eyes unfocused and pupils blown. His lips are swollen and red at the corners where the gag was digging in to the edges of his mouth.

Sam furrows his brow and cups Gabriel’s face in both hands, stroking the skin of his cheeks gently with his thumbs.

“Are you with me Gabe,” Sam asks softly, worry edging it’s way into his voice.

Gabriel lets out a long breath, his eyes starting to clear as he focuses on Sam’s gaze. A wide smile spreads across his face, dimples forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Sooooo about that uniform fetish you have there,” he drawls, quirking an eyebrow, “is it just a janitor thing?”

Sam snorts and leans forward to capture Gabriel’s smirking lips in a kiss, but Gabriel pulls back, holding up an index finger to halt him.

“No wait, is it the soapy mops? Or the feather dusters?”

Sam rolls his eyes and dives in for a deep kiss, shutting off Gabriel’s teasing with his tongue and teeth. Gabriel tries to pull away again for an instant, but then he’s melting into the kiss, tongue wrapping around Sam’s, hands reaching up to grab at Sam’s hair, as he groans into Sam’s mouth. They kiss until they’re both breathless, and when they pull back, they rest their foreheads together for a moment, Gabriel still carding his fingers through Sam’s hair, Sam still cupping Gabriel’s jawline.

Gabriel scrunches his eyes closed and pulls his brows together, mouth pressed into a thin line. “I have to go,” he finally says in a small voice. “I really don’t want to go.”

“Hey,” Sam says, pressing a kiss to Gabriel’s furrowed brow, “I’ll still be here when you get back.” He hesitates, not sure whether to utter his next thought. He’s pretty sure they’re on the same page, but it’s one thing to think long term, talking about it is a whole other ball game. Mentally preparing himself for the possible mistake this might be, he carefully adds, “Maybe I can come along next year... ah if you want me to.”

With an intense sense of relief, Sam quickly realises it’s exact right thing to say. Gabriel opens his eyes, a smile lighting up his features. “You really mean that? You’d come and meet my whole weird family? I mean you survived Lucy, but that’s still a bucket load of crazy.”

Sam laughs and nods. Though he secretly think’s the vote’s still out on whether or not he’s actually survived “Lucy”, Gabriel’s affectionate name for his frankly (possibly literally) insane older brother, who’s actually called Luke, but tells everyone his real name is Lucifer. If anything went wrong in their relationship, he’s pretty sure that Luke would tear his spine from his body, without even blinking. He may have threatened as much once or twice. Luke may pretend to view his brothers with utter disdain and dislike, but the truth is that he’s fiercely protective of them and Sam can respect that. Although slightly less psychotic, Dean is pretty much the same with him.

“I love you Gabe. I think I can put up with a little crazy. After all, you have to deal with Dean on a regular basis,” Sam says with a smile.

Gabriel makes a face. “I would call him more emotionally stunted than crazy.” Despite the insults they throw at each other whenever they meet, Gabriel and Dean actually get on surprisingly well. Dean enjoys Gabriel’s dirty and often juvenile sense of humour, and their verbal sparring has become one of Gabriel’s favourite past times, along with making Dean as uncomfortable as possible with the PDAs.

“Point,” Sam says with smirk.

Gabriel’s eyes widen and he untangles his fingers from Sam’s hair and snaps his fingers in the air, suddenly excited. “I’m sharing a room with Cassie, perfect opportunity,” he gives Sam a sly devious smile, “You up for a spot of match making.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Sam pauses to consider for a moment. On one hand, Gabriel is subtle as an anvil, the chances of this being done delicately are nil, but on the other hand, Sam thinks the chances of Dean and Cas getting together on their own are just as small. Cas is too socially awkward, and Dean is Dean. Emotionally stunted is puting it mildly. Hopefully his brother will be too distracted by Cas’ brilliant blue eyes to kill them.

Sam shrugs his shoulders and says with a little trepidation. “Ok, I guess we can give them a little nudge in that direction.”

Gabriel gives him a wide smile and hops off the desk. Sam thinks that messing with his brother is definitely worth that smile, and if a little matchmaking helps distract them from missing eachother too much, then that can only be a good thing, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be posting quite as frequently now as I'm getting closer to catching up with what's been written and I'd rather avoid any huge gaps as I furiously try to write this things in stolen moments. Anyhoo, I don't think it will be too long until the next chapter is up. Maybe a few days. Thanks for reading x


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a Friday night and Sam and Dean head to the Roadhouse for a spot of brotherly bonding. But Purple Nurples are involved and when Sam wakes the next morning, the night is a horrible blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah brotherly love.

The after glow lasts well into the evening. He feels relaxed and happy, and can’t bring himself to worry about the long separation from Gabriel just yet. His brother manages to drag him out to the Roadhouse for a couple of beers. It feels a little weird with neither of the older Novak’s behind the bar. He’s gotten so used to seeing Gabriel’s smile or Luke’s glower when they walk up to order their drinks. Dean asks where they are, Luke’s here most nights, so it’s unusual for him not to be here. Sam tells him about the family gathering.

“Shit, poor Cas,” Dean says taking a sip from his beer and shaking his head. “If I had to suffer a road trip with those two lunatics, I’d probably shoot myself.”

“Seriously dude? You do realise you’re talking about my boyfriend there,” Sam says levelling a bitchface at his brother. “Besides, they’re flying from Denver.”

“Boyfriend?” Dean says sounding surprised. “Things really that serious between you two? I thought you were just fooling around.”

Sam looks at his brother and nods, carefully watching his expression. “Yeah, yeah it’s pretty serious. We uh,” Sam blushes, a little unsure if he wants to share this with Dean just yet, knows he’s going to get shit for it, but he can’t not tell him, “I love him.”

Dean pauses with his bottle half way to his mouth and just stares at him.

“You’re serious,” Dean says, eyebrows raised in shock. “Holy shit.” He takes a long gulp of his beer, looking away from Sam. Sam doesn’t know what to think. They share an apartment. Dean’s his brother. If he suddenly has a problem with Gabriel, then things could get messy.

Dean finally places the bottle on the table and looks back at Sam. “Dude, _Gabriel_?”

Sam presses his lips together, narrows his eyes and grits out, “You have a problem with that?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck, “Dude’s like a hyperactive leprechaun nymphomanic with a sugar addiction.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “He’s not Irish and he’s not that short.”

Dean raises an eyebrow.

Sam sighs. “_Dean_, you don’t know him.” He shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to explain. He doesn’t know how he can get Dean to understand.

“Look, I like his style,” Dean says with a smirk, “he’s a funny guy. But he’s no Doctor Sexy and under all that hair, you’ve got the Winchester good looks. You could do better-”

“Screw you Dean,” Sam snarls, suddenly pissed. He shoves his unfinished beer to the side and climbs to his feet, ready to get the hell out of here.

“Sammy wait,” Dean says, grabbing his arm. Sam shoots him a deathly stare and he let’s go, holding his hands in the air. “Hold up will you. Look, I’m sorry. Sit down.”

Dean rarely utters those words, so Sam reluctantly settles back down at the table and glares at his brother.

“Look, he’s not my type,” Dean begins. _No shit Sherlock, we all know your type involves messy dark hair and blue eyes_, Sam thinks. “But he’s clearly yours. And if that’s the case, then that’s frickin fantastic. It’s been too long.” Dean gives him a sad look and Sam has to avert his eyes.

“Just tell me one thing, does he feel the same way?”

Sam looks back at Dean, hoping he’ll see the sincerity in Sam’s eyes. “Yes, yes he does.”

Dean looks at him for a second, then nods his head before getting to his feet. “Right then, this calls for a celebration.” He starts off in the direction of the bar, but turns back to face Sam after a couple of steps. “If that little fucker ever hurts you,” he raises his eyebrows and Sam rolls his eyes, “I’ll step on him. You can tell him that.”

Sam sags in relief. He’s still a little pissed that Dean had insinuated that Gabriel isn’t good enough for him in some way. Not good looking enough? That’s some bullshit. But that’s just the way Dean is. He’s pretty sure no one would be good enough in Dean’s eyes. A supermodel wouldn’t be clever enough, a neuroscientist would be too bigheaded. No one was good enough for Dean’s baby brother. So he decides to drop it and just take the small victories. Despite his lack of understanding about Sam’s choice of partner, Dean does seem genuinely pleased that Sam’s finally found someone, that he’s finally happy.

As Sam waits for Dean to return with the drinks, his cell vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and flips it open. A message from Gabriel. He opens it with a smile.

_Your big bro just sent me a threatening message. Starting to rethink my commitment to Operation Destiel._

Sam winces. _Already? Fuck's sake Dean._ Sam starts typing out a reply, then frowns, what the hell is Destiel?

_Shit sorry Gabe. I’m thinking of getting him a muzzle. What the fuck is Destiel?_

_You should, it would look cute on him. Seriously Samshine, get with the program. It’s their ship name. Obviously._

There’s an eyeroll emoji right after the first sentence. Gabriel’s favourite emoji of course. _Oh, right_. Sam shakes his head and smiles.

_I don’t get it._

Gabriel sends another eyeroll and then the two dots appear as he starts writing out a long message, probably deriding Sam’s intelligence. Sam smirks and sends a message before Gabriel can finish his diatribe.

_Shouldn’t it be Deastiel._

There’s a pause, presumably as Gabriel rolls his eyes and finds himself having to delete the long message he’d just written.

_That sounds like a disease._ Finally appears on Sam’s screen. Sam snorts.

_Casdean?_

_Wow, that’s so creative. How did you ever come up with that one?_

Gabriel’s next message appears before Sam can think of a witty reply.

_We’re going with Destiel and that’s final. Now, we need a game plan. Dean-o may be a giant dick, but I’m bored, so I’ve decided to grace him with my brilliance anyway._

_Wait what’s our name? Surely we should have one too._

Gabriel sends an eyebrow raised emoji, followed swiftly by his suggestion.

_Gabriam_

Sam makes a face.

_Too serious. Sounds like something out of the old testament._

_Fine. How about Sabriel? Now can we get on with the grand plan?_

Sam considers for a moment.

_Has a nice ring to it. Sure, why not._

Sam glances up. Dean’s finally done at the bar and is returning with a tray. The two beers are there, but also two small glasses of purple liquid. Sam’s heart sinks with the inevitability of the situation. The last time they did shots, Dean got hot and heavy with someone based purely on the bright blue color of their eyes, being the only thing he could see through the make shift ghost costume the person was wearing. Of course, Sam’s pretty sure Dean got a pretty good mental picture of the body inside the costume, given how much time his hands spent roaming underneath the sheet. And thus began the longest running, will they won’t they of the century. Now apparently named Destiel.

Sam, well Sam had pretty much manhandled a bemused Gabriel, dragging him out through the back door of the Roadhouse and pushing him up against the wall. Gabriel hadn’t exactly protested, but Sam still feels a flush of embarrassment when he thinks about his behaviour. He certainly doesn’t regret it and thinking about that kiss has become one of his favourite pastimes. But how they got there... That’s a little mortifying. He had gotten kind of handsy too, swifty discovering that Gabriel wasn’t wearing any underwear under his skimpy toga.

Purple nurples are both ridiculously named and deadly. Sam types out a quick message and pockets his phone when he reads Gabriel’s reply, blushing and laughing at the same time.

_Got to go. Dean’s back. Purple Nurples. Hangover inevitable._

_Better not molest any more angels tonight. Might trigger my vengeful tendencies. We’re talking Tarantino level here. I happen to own a katana and I’m not afraid to use it._

“Purple nurples!” Dean says with a wide goofy grin on his face. “The very best way to celebrate.”

Sam groans, but takes the offered drinks. He’s sure he’ll regret it tomorrow, but for now he really does feel like celebrating.

~~~

Sam groans, then swifty shuts up, because the noise is way too loud in his pounding head. What the fuck was he drinking last night? His hazy memory supplies an image of a row of shot glasses filled with a sickly purple liquid. Goddamn Purple Nurples. No wonder he’s feeling so bad. After a few moments of feeling sorry for himself, he realises that some water would probably help. He slowly prizes his eyelids open and has a moment of panicked disorientation when he realises he’s not in his bedroom. Thankfully his frazzled brain soon recognises the sideways view of the living room and makes the connection that he’s sprawled on the sofa.

“Morning Sammy, rise and shine!” Dean’s sudden booming voice starts the jackhammers going in this skull again.

“Do you have to be so loud,” Sam groans, rubbing at his sinuses. “How in the hell are you vertical anyway? We had the same amount to drink”

Dean shrugs. “Years of practice? Looks like I’ve got a way better tolerance than you, lightweight”

Sam grimaces. “Water... please?”

Dean rolls his eyes, but walks over to the tap and Sam hears the water running. He slowly levers himself upright, closing his eyes as the room spins. Fuck, he is never drinking those little shots of lethal poison again.

“So about last night.” Dean’s voice is coming from right in front of him, so he opens his eyes gingerly, and accepts the tall glass and advil that his brother is handing him, but freezes when the words register.

Sam hastily swallows the painkillers and takes a long drink, before schooling his features and replying in as nonchalant a manner as he can muster. “What about last night?” His memory is disturbingly blank, with only a few flickering images swimming around his head. The line of shots, Dean singing along to some classic rock tune, typing out a message on his phone. What did he write? Who did he send it to? What else did he do? He feels a growing sense of dread.

Dean smirks at him and says, “Welllllll you know. When you climbed up onto the table and declared your love of midget Angels. Don’t you remeber? I had to stop you stripping and throwing your shirt into the crowd.”

Despite the pain the motion sends shooting through his skull, that deserves an epic bitchface.

Dean just laughs and sits down in the seat across from Sam. “Yeah well you might as well have. Dude, you would not shut up about him. It was like spending the night with a teenage girl, but without all the fun ‘just legal’ possibilities”

Sam makes a face. “Dude, that’s gross.”

Dean winks and continues, “No you were gross. You talked about his hair for ten minutes Sam, ten minutes.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

Dean shakes his head. “Nuhuh, I timed you. What the fuck is so great about it anyway? Don’t answer that. Then it was on to the eyes. Dude you were even worse with the eyes. I had to pretend I needed a piss just to escape.”

Sam cringes and rubs the back of his neck. “Ah sorry. I guess I was kinda wasted.”

“Kinda? Understatement of the century. I haven’t even gotten to the worst part yet.”

Sam pales. “Uh what... what did I...”

“Well then you wouldn’t stop messaging him. We’re talking serious teenage girl territory here. I was ready to shoot off as your damn phone screen was getting more attention than your own brother. Rude Sammy, so rude. But then you decide to include me in the conversation by showing me a picture he sent you.” Dean makes a face. “Seriously dude, gonna need some heavy duty mind bleach to forget that one.”

“Fuck, that’s... I don’t remember doing that... Um what was the picture of?”

Dean shivers and makes another face. “I am not risking a mental image by describing that shit. And then Sammy, then you decide that I’m a teenage girl too, apparently one who really wants to hear all about your boyfriend’s dick.”

Sam gapes in horror at his brother. “I didn’t.”

“Sammy I really wish I was making this shit up, but I’m not. I mean, I’m glad your getting a bit more bang for your buck than you’d think just looking at him, I really am, the whole thing makes more sense now. But christ Sam, I really didn’t need an exact description. I didn’t need to hear how pretty-”

“Stop! Just stop, please,” Sam says attempting to curl up into a ball and make the world disappear.

“Since when has a dick, ever in remotest sense of the word, been pretty?” Dean laughs. Sam uncurls, makes a grab for the remote and hurls it at his brother’s head. It misses by a mile.

“Nice, Sammy, nice. Wait a second,” Dean smirks at him, “did you just get your period?”

Sam just glares and staggers to his feet, making a beeline for his room, trying to ignore the way the floor appears to be tilting liked some fucked up funhouse. His cell is sitting on the counter, so he grabs it on his way.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Sammy, it’s a perfectly normal bodily function,” Dean calls after him.

Sam haults right as he’s about to turn the corner into the hallway and spins around to face his brother, almost toppling over in the process.

“Let me get this straight,” Sam says, “you have a way higher tolerance for alcohol than I do.”

Dean gives him a wide grin. “You bet I do.”

“Then it occurs to me, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d say it’s more likely than not, that you remember what happened at Hallowe’en.”

It’s Sam’s turn to smirk now as the smile falls from his brother’s suddenly pale features.

“That’s... not... uh...,” his brother stutters, then looks away. Bingo, just as he thought. “Go change your tampon,” he finally deflects, but he can’t look Sam in the eye.

Sam snorts and continues on to his room, closing the door behind him and flopping down on his bed. The room spins from the motion and he has to close his eyes until it stops.

It’s quite possible he’s just messed up their secret plans, Dean will be extra suspicious of any meddling they attempt, but Sam finds he doesn’t really care at this moment, the look on his brother’s face was priceless, definitely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to write another chapter so could post this one hooray!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keen to fill in the blanks in his memory, Sam turns on his cell phone. The long scroll of messages give him far more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure cracky humour. A drunken Gabriel is wonderous thing.

He lays there for a minute, not quite ready to uncover the remaining mysteries of last night. According to Dean, he had been messaging Gabriel a lot, but he doesn’t really remember any of it. He has a slight worry that he’s said something stupid. His phone hasn’t vibrated yet, which means there’s no morning message from Gabriel. Then again, his flight was due to arrive past midnight. It must have been stupid o’clock by the time he got to his accomodation.

Unable to put it off any longer, Sam opens his phone and pulls up Whatsapp. The last read message doesn’t make much sense out of context, it just serves to inform him that he was apparently too drunk to type properly by the time he passed out on the sofa. It would make sense to start at the beginning of the night. Sam sighs and scrolls up, trying not to look too closely at the images as they scroll by. One of them looks particularly suspect at first glance. Sam’s really not ready for that, so he glances away and scrolls quickly past it. Holy shit, Dean really wasn’t kidding, there are tonne of messages here. Finally he comes across a couple of messages he recognises and stops, scrolling down a little to the first one that isn’t familiar.

He definitely doesn’t remember this one. Staring back at him is a hideously embarassing selfie of Sam and Dean. They’re bent down close to the table so that a row of empty shot glasses can be seen in the background, holding their last (he hopes) shots up to the camera and pulling ridiculous faces. Sam rubs a hand over his face. Wow. Surely it can’t get worse than that, but he has a horrible feeling it will. Gabriel’s replies don’t bode well.

_Hoo boy, you two chuckleheads are wasted. That’s it, we’re almost at the airport. Gonna catch up. Cassie has us here stupidly early. Time to hit the cocktail bar and work my way through the dirtiest sounding drinks on the menu!_

_It’s even more fun when you get Cassie to order it for you. You should see his face! Next time I’ll capture it in all it’s glory. One slippery nipple coming up._

Then there’s a picture, not of Castiel fumbling over an embarassing drinks order, but of the three of them squashed around a small table, a blur of people in the background. Gabriel is grinning into the camera, holding a shot glass with a multi layered drink, mocha colour on top, a deep red on bottom. Luke has his usual glower on, with what looks like scotch on the rocks in front of him and Cas is sat in the middle, presumably to separate the two, beer in hand and a perplexed expression on his face. Sam has to admit Dean was right on one part, Sam is already starting to feel sorry for Cas.

And there’s the promised picture of Cas making the next order, Sex on the Beach according to Gabriel’s caption. He has a serious expression on his face, but his cheeks are looking decidedly pink. The bar tender looks like he’s fighting hard to keep a straight face over Castiel’s obvious discomfort.

Sam has finally noticed Gabriel’s messages and sends one back at this point. A row of laughing emojis followed by a suggestion of his own. Sam rubs a hand over his face and looks down at his phone. He must have googled that one, because he’s pretty sure he’s never heard of it. Poor, poor Cas.

_Get him to order a Quick Fuck next._

_See this is why I love you. You can’t give me a quick fuck right now tho, gonna have to decribe it to me._

And Sam does, in lurid detail, _jesus_ is he dirty minded when he’s pissed, then follows with a description of the actual drink.

_Have you been reading 50 Shades Sammy? Tut tut. That’s trash. Let me give you a few recommendations._

There’s a link next. Sam warily clicks on it. The Good Reads website opens up to show Gabriel’s page and what appears to be his recommendations within the erotica genre. Some of the titles and cover art make Sam blush. Some of them sound, ah _interesting_, so he bookmarks the page before returning to the conversation.

_Alas Castiel has wisened to our game. He outright refuses to order a Quick Fuck. His face when I suggested he’d do it for Dean, but freudianed into saying he’d do it **to** Dean..._

Sam snorted out a laugh at the mental image that brought up. Subtle Gabe, so subtle.

_Bartender thinks he’s Brian Flanigan, gave me his number._

Sam has sent back a GIF of the Hulk flinging about Loki, the dialogue “puny human” written at the bottom.

_Hey big guy, sun’s getting real low._

Sam smiles at the reference.

The next message is an image of Sam and Dean clinking shot glasses. Those are definitely not purple nurples. Sam cringes. So they moved on to cocktails too. No wonder he feels like he’s been to hell and back.

_Dean just orsered Quick Fucks for us, same happened to him._

And there goes his ability to type. Frankly he’s impressed it lasted so long given the number of empty shot glasses on the table in the first image.

_Hang on a hot minute, Dean got Benny’s number???? Whoa, lil bro’s gonna have to get off his keister an get his Aidan Turner on._

_What? Who?_

_Oh come on! You haven’t watched Poldark yet? Devilishy handsome hero du jour. Dark unruly hair, can’t keep his shirt on._

_Cant say I hav..._

_What planet have you been on? Soon’s I get back I’m givin you an education in high end erotica disguised as a stuffy british drama. That scything scene alone. Holy HBO._

_Anyhoo Samcakes, I’m ordering another drink. What’s the worst your filthy mind can come up with?_

_Sounds like a pllan. Ok how about one of these... Leg Spreader... Suck, Bang and Blow... Oh wait this one might bring back some memories... Apparently theres a coktail called Sex on my face._

Sam scrunches up his face. Wow, he can’t believe he actually brought up _that_ little accident. Gabriel’s next message is a string of laughing emojis followed swifty by the slightly concerning...

_What they don’t have a cocktail called Accidental Bukakke? Oh well Sex on my face it is. Actually screw it, give me recipes for em all._

And Sam actually has. _Christ_ Gabriel’s kinda small to be drinking this heavily. Sam’s starting to wonder if he made it onto the plane at all. Is his boyfriend actually in hospital instead, getting his stomach pumped.

_Cassie’s no fun. He confiscated my Leg Spreader and gave my Suck, Bang and Blow to Lucy. Thankfully Brian Flanigan’s after my sweet tush, slipped me an Angel’s tit at the bar._

That’s a relief. Thank god at least one of the Novak brothers actually has some sense.

Sam’s reply is an extremely drunken looking bitchface with a tagline at the bottom.

_Show this to Brian Douchigan. That sweet tush is mine._

_Woah there Glenn Close. My tush most definitely belongs to you. Though I suggest you claim it when I get back._

In case Sam hasn’t got the picture Gabriel has helpfully added,

_With your dick. Multiple times._

_Now go grab a chill pill. Or better yet grab an Angel’s tit. That came out wrong. So did that._

Sam smirks, _oh Gabe_.

_Dean blushed when I suggested we order Angel tits. Must think Im making a reference to Cas. Hw got it baaaaaaad._

_Cassie looking tipsy on one Leg Spreader should I give him tips on how to spread your brother’s legs?_

Sam covers his mouth. _Christ no._ He scrolls down hurriedly. Thank fuck, even his wasted self knows that’s a horrendous idea.

_For the love of all that is holy, do not do that! Seriusly dude wtf? Also, ewwwwwwww._

_Ok, ok, don’t get your pink silk panties in a twist._

There’s a predictable eyeroll at the end of the message.

_Raspberries. Gate’s bein called in 5 minutes better get one for the road._

No Gabe you really, really shouldn’t. Sam sighs.

_Just delivered your warning to Brian. He said, and I quote verbatim “He looks like a feisty one, must be a real devil between the sheets.” Must know you. Something you neglected to tell me about your past liasons?_

_Then he gave me a Blow Job..._

_...the drink! Before you go getting those panties in a twist again._

_Incidentally, Brian tells me Pink Silk Panties happens to be a pretty sweet cocktail._

Then there’s a badly framed selfie of Gabriel holding up his shot glass, with the bartender comically leering in the background.

_Oh yeah I remembr him. Really small dick._

Sam shakes his head. Way to get catty. Apparently Gabriel brings out his very worst possessive tendencies.

_Okkkaaaaay Lindsay Lohan. Gotta bounce, Cassie’s getting antsy, they called the gate one minute ago. Gonna have to send him back to ol blighty with Balthy. Heard queing’s a national pastime there. Lil bro’ll fit right in._

Gabriel sent him one more image before take off, Gabe and his brothers squashed into economy seating. A grinning Gabriel looks more than half cut, Luke has pretty much the same expression as the last picture of the three, though he’s pointedly not looking at the camera this time. Castiel, once again in the middle, has an exhausted, long suffering expression on his face.

_Time to say sayonara sweet Samshine. Catch you on the other side._

_Love you Gabe, safe journey._

Sam sighs. Well at least he made the flight. God Sam’ll miss him though. It’s going to be a long 9 days. Sam scrolls down before he can feel the sadness take hold and bursts out laughing at the next image. Gabriel must have taken this one during the flight and queued it to send when he landed. The picture shows the three of them in a row again, but this time Luke is slumped against Castiel’s shoulder, drool leaving a wet patch on his shirt. Castiel has his arms folded and is giving Gabriel a hard stare. Gabriel is the only one looking into the camera, an exaggerated pout on his face. Sam notices with another sigh that he appears to have a drink on his tray table, along with a ridiculous candy filled electric fan with lights and a cartoon figure on top.

Sam shakes his head and scrolls down to read the tagline.

_Baby bro won’t let me draw a dick on Lucy’s face. It’s traditional! Gotta get this fuddy duddy laid asap. Replace that stick up his ass with your brother’s dick._

Sam makes a face. Ew, seriously. He scrolls down hurriedly before he can get a mental image and almost drops his cell when he sees the next image. Oh. My. God. Sam had thought he’d been seeing things when he’d scrolled to the top of his messages, but no, it’s pretty close to what he actually thought it was. The image, clearly taken in one of the tiny plane restrooms, shows a downwards pointing view, right into Gabriel’s open jeans. Sam rubs a hand over his face. He is way too hungover for this. He looks back at the image. Gabriel isn’t wearing any underwear as per usual, but thankfully he’s shown a smidgen of restrait and not unzipped all the way. Only the very base of his cock can be seen, mostly hidden in the pubic hair springing forth from the opening. A flash of pale belly is also pictured as Gabriel’s holding his shirt out of the way. _Christ._

“Dude, I’m heading out.” Sam just about jumps out of his skin as his brother’s voice comes through his door. He hastily hides the phone behind his back in case Dean decides to barge in.

“Uh ok,” Sam says, hoping his voice doesn’t waver too much.

“Try not to listen to too much Celine Dion while I’m gone.”

Sam rolls his eyes at the closed door, replying with a “Bye jerk.”

“Catch ya later Bitch,” Dean says. His heavy booted footfalls, followed by the front door slamming shut, let Sam know his brother has definitely left.

Sam blows out a held breath. He scrambles off his bed and heads to the kitchen. He’s definitely going to need a coffee to continue with this messed up saga.

~~~

Sam sighs as he takes the first sip. Sweet, sweet caffeine. He settles back on his bed. He should really hit the shower, he’s still in his clothes from the night before and the stink of alcohol emanating from them is pretty gross, but he feels like he needs to see this through. Retrieving his phone, he takes a deep breath and flips it open. Christ, there it is again. A portrait of Gabriel’s pubes. Right there on his HD phone screen. Gabriel has a pretty good camera, so it isn’t even fuzzy, or at least not in the camera optics sense. Sam rubs a hand over his face and holding his breath, scrolls down to read the tagline, and almost drops the coffee in his lap.

_Does membership to the mile high club still count if it’s solo?_

Sam swears into the empty room, puts both the coffee and phone down on his nightstand, and runs both hands through his hair. Jesus, his head is starting to throb again. He can’t help but wonder if he’s going to have to go to San Fransico and bail his lunatic boyfriend out of jail, because _christ_, if he got caught then surely he’s being taken up on charges of public indecency right now. He leans his head back on the headboard and closes his eyes for a moment, hoping the dull throb will go away. _Fucking hell_. He sighs. Well at least Cas is there. If anything did happen, then surely he’d have taken care of it. Unless Cas has finally had enough of his brother’s crap that is.

Feeling a sense of unease, Sam gingerly picks up his phone and scrolls down to the next message. Ominously the next one is Sam’s. So Gabriel didn’t send any more messages from his flight. Ah crap. Despite his extreme inebriation, Sam had apparently been worried last night too.

_Holy shhhit Gabriel you didnt?! Are you insane? Christ you cnt keep quiet evne if you want to. Not to mention, that is all levels of gross. Do you know how many diseases you could catch from one of those toilets? Is your stupidass in jail right now????!_

_Gabe I’m serious. Are. You. In. Jail?!_

_Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe gonna call Cass in a moment if you don’t reply_

Finally there’s a reply from Gabriel and Sam lets out a long breath. A line of laughing emojis. Nice Gabe.

_Holy shit I wish I could see your face right now Samkins. You’re such a worry wart._

_So you didn’t just take a wank in an united airlines restroom? Wth? I was worried about you, you son of a btich_

_Numero uno: Yes those toilets are disease ridden cesspits and I value my sexual health waaaay too much. Numero dos: aw that’s cute it really is, but no need for all the concern, I do actually have a pretty healthy sense of self preservation_

_Why in the hell would you send that to me?_

_That would be numero tres: seemed like a good excuse to send you a pube-selfie. You appear to have a kink._

There’s a wink emoji at the end of the message. Sam just stares at it for a moment. Son of bitch. God Gabriel really is a little shit sometimes. Sam does not have a goddamn pube kink. He just really liked the feel of those coarse curls running through his fingers, liked the wild look of... Shit maybe he _does_ have a kink. Not for pubes in general, christ no, but maybe a Gabriel specific one. Sam sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, before scrolling on. The time stamps are getting late. Hopefully there isn’t much more of this insanity.

_I do not have a pube kink you asshole_

_One thinks he doth protest too much_

_Eat me_

_Ooh maybe later big boy. By the by, want me to cut off a lock and sent it to you express post. Keep you going until next time?_

_Switchin off my phone now. Goin have a few more drnks with Dean. Never though id think of him as the sane option._

_Aw don’t be like that Samkins. I bought a lil something when I got off the plane. Cocktails in a bottle! Keep me company my gorgeous hunk of kinkiness._

More alcohol? Sam scrunches his face up. Wow, they both had quite the night. No wonder he hasn’t had any messages from Gabriel this morning. And just how many drinks did Sam go on to have with Dean? Apparently enough to forgive Gabriel’s shenanigans, wax lyrical about his dick and then blank out this whole sorry mess. God he hopes he didn’t mention the pubes. And what the hell picture did he show his brother? Sam has a horrible feeling he knows which one.

That one is the last seen message, time to finish this. He scrolls down through a few Sam?, Sammy?, Samkins? and other variations on Sam’s name to an extreme close up of Gabriel’s very drunken, very pouty face. Sam almost feels bad about switching his phone off, almost.

The last picture startles a laugh out of him. This image clearly wasn’t taken by Gabriel. No, this was definitely taken by someone else, as it shows Gabriel sprawled out on his back, out cold and without a stitch of clothing on him. Said clothing apears to be tangled beneath him. The photographer has strategically placed Gabriel’s ridiculous light up candy fan in the foreground so that a blurred image of the cartoon character is vaguely preserving Gabriel’s modesty. Sam stares at the expanse of pale skin, Sam’s marks standing out clearly on the delicate flesh of his neck, at the halo of tangled hair about his head, the sleep softened features, flung out arms. _Oh Gabe_, he thinks, warmth spreading through his chest. _My crazy, beautiful, Gabriel._ He wants to wrap him in a blanket and take his drunken ass to bed. Tuck him in and place a glass of water and a couple of advil on the nightstand. He desperately wants to take care of him and feels a pang of sadness that he can’t.

Sam sighs as he scrolls down to read the next message, presumably written by the mystery photographer.

_Found this in my room. Wandered in on it’s own. Think it belongs to you judging by the claim marks. Please come to San Fran tout de suite to collect it._

The message is signed off with a kissy face and the letter B. So this is the infamous Balthazar Sam guesses. Sam shakes his head and laughs, scrolling down to read the last message. He can tell by the precise phrasing that it’s from Castiel.

_Sam, I apologise for that last message and unfortunate photograph. It appears that Gabriel got confused and mistook Balthazar and Gadreel’s room for ours. He was quite inebriated. _(Sam laughs at that. Quite? Bit of an understatement there Cas). _It took me some time to locate him. It seems that my cousin Balthazar thought it was more prudent to take a picture and send it to several people on my brother’s contact list _(Sam cringes at that. Ouch. Several?)_ instead of helping him. I would like to assure you that Gabriel is now safely in the correct bed. Gadreel is a little more willing to help than hinder. I trust that all is well with yourself and Dean. Goodnight Sam, Castiel._

Sam takes a moment to thank god for the gift of the ever dependable Castiel. That guy is a saint. Sam really does feel sorry for him. Gabriel clearly wasn’t joking about the bucket load of crazy. He wonders if Cas’ sanity can stand up to over a week of this madness. Sam closes the conversation with Gabriel and pulls up a new conversation with Castiel, typing out a quick message.

_Hey Cas, thanks for taking care of Gabriel last night. I was a little worried. How’s he doing?_

It doesn’t take long for Cas to read his message and start replying, though it takes a little longer for his long winded message to appear on Sam’s screen.

_Good morning Sam. I hope that you slept well. Dean told me you were celebrating at the Roadhouse last night, although he neglected to tell me what it was you were celebrating. If congratulations are in order in some way, please accept them from me. _(Wow, so Dean had been messaging Cas last night. Interesting.) _Gabriel has not yet awakened, although he is snoring quite loudly so I believe there is no cause for alarm. _(Sam checks his watch. It’s just past noon. Well at least Gabriel’s getting some half way decent rest)._ I have water and medication ready. Do not worry Sam, I will continue to watch over him and make sure he is as well as can be under the circumstances. My brother does not know his limits sometimes or does not care to heed them. I will inform you when he wakes. Please let Dean know we arrived safely. In all of the chaos last evening, I neglected to message him and I don’t wish for him to worry. His mobile device is switched off. Also please inform him that both of my brothers are still alive and I have not “lost my shit and murdered them.”_

Sam snorts out a laugh at that last line and the accompanying honest to god wink emoji that follows it.

_Will do. Thanks again Cas. And not sure anyone would blame you if you did, but please spare Gabriel. I’ve grown rather fond of him._

_As is he of you. I must thank you Sam. I have not seen my brother this happy in many years, perhaps ever. You are very good for him and I believe he loves you dearly. Please know that I consider you part of this family and that you are very welcome to join our celebrations next year. Your brother would also be welcome._

Sam’s breath hitches in his throat and he feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Family. For so long his family has just been him and Dean. He’ll take all the crazy in the world to feel that connection again. To be part of something bigger than the two of them. First Ellen and now Cas. Tears fall freely down his face as he types out his reply.

_He means the world to me Cas and I’d be honored to be part of your family._

_That is good to hear Sam. I do not have to apologise for their actions as frequently if they are your family also._

Sam laughs at that and wipes away the tears. Now his stomach isn’t lurching quite so much, he feels famished. Feeling light and happy, he closes his phone and heads through to the kitchen to forage for some brunch.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam helps Gabriel plot his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I have no excuses. I don't where this came from. I swear these characters have a will of their own. Definitely on the cracky humour side.

It’s almost 2 o’clock, Sam’s fed and showered and settling down to catch up on Stranger Things on Netflix, when his phone finally vibrates again. He picks it up and opens the messaging app. The message is from Cas. He frowns as he pulls up the conversation. He hopes Gabriel’s ok.

_Sam, apologies for not messaging you sooner. Gabriel has only just awoken. He is feeling rather poorly and cannot message you at this time, but he has asked me to pass on the message that he is currently “praying to the Oh God of Hangovers.” I do not understand the reference, but he assures me that it is highly likely you will. He also added that if you do not “get the reference” then “we are getting a divorce.” Sorry Sam he is not on the best of forms._

Sam smirks and types out a reply.

_Sorry to do this to you Cas, but can you tell him “Maybe you shouldn’t have been tripping the light fantastic with Bibulous last night.”_

_I do not understand that reference either, but I will pass on your message._

There’s a pause and then another message proceeded by a frowny face emoji.

_He wishes you to “seek out the wizards of the Unseen University and ask for a cure.” Perhaps this can wait until later. I believe I may soon need to hold back his hair._

_Ah sorry Cas tell him that I’ll talk to him later when he’s up to it and I’ll express post it by golem._

There’s no reply and Sam winces. Seems like Castiel is a little occupied. Sam sighs and settles back on the sofa, letting the fantastical world of Stranger Things wash over him. Showering and eating certainly helped, but he’s still feeling kinda wiped.

~~~

By the time his brother returns from work, Sam has mainlined half of season 2. Dean mutters something about lazy ass students as he traipses through to the shower, covered in grease and engine oil.

“Cas was asking after you,” Sam shouts after him.

Dean’s face appears around the corner, looking a little nervy. “Uh what did he say?” Dean asks carefully.

Sam really wants to tease him, but there’s something about the expression on his face that makes Sam hold his tongue. “Oh he just wanted me to tell you they got in safely.”

Dean’s eyes are darting around like he can’t quite look at Sam and there’s a faint flush on his cheeks under smears of grease. “That’s uh great, thanks.”

Huh. So this thing with Cas isn’t Dean’s usual ‘love em and leave em’ attraction to someone. No wonder Dean hasn’t made a move yet. He’s actually nervous he’ll screw it up. Dean doesn’t just want to jump Cas’ bones, he actually likes him, likes him. It’s actually kind of painful to see his brother standing there at a loss for words so Sam throws him a bone.

“Oh and he says his brothers are both still alive because he hasn’t ‘lost his shit and murdered them’”. Sam makes airquotes around that last bit.

Dean’s face lights up with a big grin and he shakes his head. “That guy is a saint.”

Sam laughs. “Yeah, I read through my messages from last night and I hate to say it but,” Sam shrugs, “you might be right.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Dean asks, actually looking a little concerned.

Sam shakes his head and gives a small smile. “Ah no, Gabe just got a bit hammered last night. Was a bit of a handfull, I guess. Poor Cas has been playing nursemaid all day.”

Dean snorts out a laugh. “You do realise that’ll be your job one day.”

Sam smiles. His brother wouldn’t come right out and say it, but this is Dean’s way of letting Sam know he accepts that Sam’s relationship with Gabriel is long term.

“Actually no, you two are the perfect pair. Both lightweights. You’ll be taking turns holding back each other's hair.”

Sam rolls his eyes and considers chucking the remote at him again, but it seems like too much effort.

“Inbetween braiding it of course,” Dean adds, chuckling to himself as he heads to the shower.

Sam decides to be the bigger guy and just ignores him. He’s just about to bring up the next episode of Stranger Things, when his phone vibrates. This time it’s from Gabriel.

_THAT SNOT NOSED, TEA DRINKING, DOWNTON ABBEY WATCHING B-HOLE!_

_Hello Sam, how are you? A little hungover this morning, but I’m ok now thank you. How are you doing Gabriel? (Also, I don’t think that’s just a British thing. I caught my brother watching it a few times)_

Gabriel sends a row of eye rolling emojis

_Ok Princess-glad you’re-Peachy but this is serious. As soon as my digestive system stops doing the backwards conga that S.O.B. is uber boned. (Wow Cassie too they’re MFEO)_

Sam winces. That’s some impressive hangover. It takes him an embarassing amount of time to decipher the meaning of MFEO. Made for Each other. He has to agree, it’s looking more and more that way.

_Uh ok. Just how many people did he send it to?_

_Hmm let me list them for you. You of course Samkins (guess you can thank Balthy for the free porn soz the pubes were left out)_

Sam rolls his eyes and sends the appropriate emoji.

_Ellen_

Sam cringes. Oh look there’s an emoji for that one too.

_My DENTIST. Looking for recs as I aint going back there._

_Wow, uh sure._

_Jo and Benny. Jo’s giving me not stop shit over it, Benny said “no thanks, you’re not my type.” Clearly he’s blind or has a problem with his brain being missing._

Sam laughs. Jo and Benny both work at the Roadhouse as part timers. Jo rather takes after her firecracker of a mother, a certain life drawing tutor.

_Oh and the cherry on top, Ellen sent me a really disturbing GIF and then said “that was the can of whoop-ass I’ll open on you if you send pornography to my daughter again.”_

_Oh shit_

_Quite. Cas is calling her to explain the sitch. Says I’d only “make matters worse” and it’ll be “more convincing” coming from him. Too hungover to argue._

_Well, I mean that’s not great but..._

_Do not say, “it could have been worse”, because Sammy, I. am. Not. Done._

_Oh_

_Becky_

_Charlie_

Sam frowns. Hang on a minute, wth?

_Woah wait, **Becky**??? As in Becky who has a giant crush on me and gets disturbingly excited when you kiss me? That Becky? Why do you even have her in your contact list? Are you insane?_

_Aw come on she’s a sweet heart._

_She’s certifiable. You still haven’t answered my question. Aren’t you a little worried that she now has a naked picture of you?_

_You do realise she’s in the same life drawing class as you? Hello? Already seen the whole kit and kaboodle._

_Gabriel..._

_Pfft. She’s dating an old pal. No one you know._

Sam raises his eyebrows. Uh ok.

_And he or she doesn’t mind the whole... I don’t even know what to call it._

_RPS and noooo she gets all hot and bothered, he reaps the benefits. It’s a win, win. Zero effort on his part. Anyhoo, what was I saying... Half of my cougars... Several of them have already propositioned me. I think they’ve been hitting up their husbands viagra supplies._

_I don’t even... I don’t even want to think about that. But wait a minute RPS? You’re kidding. She doesn’t actually...?_

_Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You are a dark horse. How exactly have you come across the acronym RPS pray tell? And don’t you dare leave out any of the juicy deets._

Crap. How the hell did he just walk into that one.

_Look I was never into that side of it, but well, there isn’t much you stuff out there for someone who’s questioning their sexuality._

_That was so forthcoming thanks. Ok I’m going to guess Kirk/Spock, aliens made them do it?_

_Uh Harry/Draco actually._

_Holy horcruxes, sometimes I forget you’re barely out of diapers. Got a thing for bad boys hmm? Good thing I got my hooks into you before Lucy got a look in. So what was it? Frottage under the invisibility cloak, wand penetration, spells made them do it? So after my time kiddo._

Sam makes a face. Christ he really isn’t getting into this.

_It was the snark ok and no I’m not talking about this. Anyway you’re deflecting. We’re supposed to be talking about the Becky situation._

_Ok firstly: we were talking about my B-hole cousin, you’re the one who went off on a porny tangent, Secondly: there was fanart wasn’t there. PG-13 or NC-17?_

_Ok you win! Kiss to shut up and angry sex and of course there was fanart, it’s how I realised I wanted to be an artist. Now please shut up._

_I am learning all sorts of wonderous things about you this morning Sam and we are so revisiting this, but the meds are wearing off. Another date with the porcelain imminent. Need you to get with your inner Slytherin. Ideas? (And don’t worry about Becks. She’s harmless. Horny, but harmless. And I resolutely refused her request for full frontal of you. You’re welcome.)_

Sam rubs a hand over his face. His meds are starting to wear off too, or maybe it’s just dealing with Gabriel thats doing it, but his headache is definitely making a valiant attempt to return.

_It’s almost 6 p.m. Gabe. And you want me to help you with your “Kill Bill” fantasy?! Not sure I really want to get involved. (Jesus Christ)_

_What shit really? Guess that was a pretty long siesta huh? Hell, the party must be getting started without me. Gotta be hella dull. Any old how, I’m thinking less “Kill Bill” more “Van Wilder Party Liaison” with less pooch juice. Come on Sammy I know you’re good for it, Dean-o spilled the beans on your prank wars. (And I’m pretty sure he was a dude with a beard and some pretty classy sandals, not a perky blonde in plaid. She dresses like you now, it’s cute)_

Christ this would have been easier by phone, his hands are starting to cramp from the constant stream of messages, but he doesn’t really want Dean eavesdropping and frankly he likes Cas too much to subject him to Gabriel’s side on the conversation. Besides, the ever sensible Castiel would likely call a halt to this debacle before it starts and Sam finds he actually wants to see Balthazar get his dues, if only for providing Becky with a nude picture of his boyfriend.

_Dude, Van Wilder? Really? (Cute? No. Psycho-Stalkerish? Yes.)_

_What? It’s a classic! (Look, Sam ok I get it, it’s a little weird, but weird’s kinda my jazz. Give the kid a break, she’s actually a gem. Target of megadouches at school...Cas well... Cas got it bad and I just... Give her her OTP it makes her happy)_

Sam sighs and closes his eyes. He had a fair few run ins with school bullies himself before he sprouted a foot or two. They moved around a lot so it never got all that serious, especially with Dean’s intimidating big brother act, but he tended to run with the nerdy crowd and he saw what it did to them, suffering through it day in and day out. Yeah ok, he could deal.

_Gabe I... Ok I guess I can live with it. Sorry about Cas, I didn’t know. Kids can be real assholes._

_Ok, so if you really want my help with the Balthazar situation, we’re not taking inspiration from anything involving Ryan Reynolds._

Gabriel takes so long to reply that Sam starts to wonder if he’s said anything wrong, or if Gabriel has gone back to praying to the Oh God of Hangovers.

_It was a long time ago Sam and a long depressing story, raincheck on that convo?_

_What? Not even Deadpool?_

Sam bites his lip. Christ, poor Cas. That does not sound good. If Gabriel wants to shelf the conversation for another time though, he’ll respect it.

_Sure, Gabe, I understand._

_Not unless you want to spend the rest of your life in jail..._

_You may have a point Samshine. My tush is way too tasty for jail, everyone would be duking it out over who gets to be my butt buddy. Nope ok, I’ll stay clear of the ultra violent kamikaze comic book action. Any suggestions or are you just going to shoot down all my brilliant ideas?_

Sam shakes his head and smiles. 

_Nair in his shampoo bottle?_

_Gotta hand it to Dean-o, that’s a classic. He does it to you again though and I’ll kick his balls so hard he’ll be speaking two octaves higher for at least a week. _(Sam’s lips twitch at that. So Gabriel has a thing about his hair, good to know). _As tempting as it is, Balthy would definitely retaliate in kind. I’m not waking up with a Ripley special. I’m way too pretty for that._

That one’s definitely out then, because Sam definitely has a thing for Gabriel’s hair, as his brother can apparently attest to.

_You could pull an American Pie..._

_Ok I’m not sure if you want me to fuck his dessert or stick his musical instrument where the sun don’t shine. Since he only plays piano, I think that might be a tad uncomfortable._

_Sam has to slap a hand over his mouth to muffle the laughter that brings on._

_That’s quite an image. No I mean, the superglue porno scene._

_Ooh dessert play. Ok I’m adding it to our Fucket list. Glad I was on point with the nutella. That’s American Pie 2 Samkins, get your teen gross out humour movies straight. And seriously, no one watches porn on disc anymore let alone video. It’s a dying art. Sad days. The internet is for porn Sam, and to find porn, you have to use the internet._

_I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what’s a Fucket list? And it doesn’t have to be a porn video, I did it to my brother’s beer once._

_Booooooooorrring. Seriously, I thought you were better at this. Nope. Non. Neyn. Look, he’s not easy to embarass. He’s as cool as a phalic shaped salad vegetable. What we need to do is drive him one flew over the cuckoos nest crazy (It’s like a bucket list, but with more orgasms. Way more fun.)_

Sam is still deep in thought, ruminating over all the crap he and his brother had thrown at eachother over the years, when Gabriel’s next message appears.

_Holy shishkebabs, why didn’t I think of it before? It’s so obvious! Titanic!_

_Uh ok, I’m not sure what the greatest avoidable tragedy in maritime history has to do with the current situation..._

Gabriel’s reply is preceeded by a row of roll eye emojis.

_Don’t be obtuse Sam, not the real Titanic, I’m talking about the low point of Di Caprio’s career. 3 and a half hours of all our lives that we aren’t getting back._

_I’m still not following..._

_If there’s one thing my uberdouche of a cousin hates more than anything in the world, it’s that movie. Or more precisely... that song. All I need to do is swipe his phone and change all the ringtones. Alarms. All that jazz. And bingo, full on Jack Nicholson._

_Has he rented a car?_

_And the non sequitur of the year award goes to Sam Winchester._

_Has he?_

_I think so? Why pray tell?_

A devilish smile spreads across Sam’s face.

_Then this is what you need to do..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just passed 40 k yesterday. Apparently I can't write short sex scenes. We have a bit of ground to cover first, but some seriously porny porn is coming your way.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is subjected to more mental scarring (of the crack humor variety) and Sam makes a decision that could jeopardize his relationship with his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this time as it felt like a natural breaking point. Poor Dean!

_Dean_

_I’m sorry? Dean what?_

_Hello, evil genius, I didn’t finish my list._

_What list?_

_Oh. Oh. Oh Wow._

_Huh? Isn’t he home yet? What was his reaction?_

_Cas said his phone’s been switched off all day._

_Promise me something Sam._

_What?_

_That’ll you’ll send me a video, an audio clip, something._

_Uh... What?_

_Just promise me._

_Okaaaay_

~~~

For whatever reason, low battery, general exhaustion or something along those lines, Dean doesn’t switch on his phone until the next morning. And Sam knows this, because the moment he does, it becomes ear splittingly obvious.

“SON OF A BITCH!!.... SAMMY!! SAMMMMMMMY!!!”

Sam dutifully grabs his cell from his nightstand and hits the record button.

“Ah yeah Dean?” Sam calls back nonchalantly.

“GET YOUR LAZY ASS OUT OF BED AND COME HERE. YOUR... YOUR... SON OF A...JUST COME HERE.”

Sam smirks and pulls on a pair of jeans and a fresh t-shirt, pocketing his phone.

“SAMMMMMY!!”

“I’m here Dean,” Sam says, walking through to the living area, “no need to yell. What’s up.”

Dean just glares at him for a moment. Breathing heavily through his nose, looking for all the world like an angry bull. It’s very tempting to say that, but Sam just crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows.

“That little... Fuck... Wrong on so many levels Sam. He’s fucking deranged.” Dean’s pacing back and forth, hands clenched into fists at his side.

Sam frowns. The picture wasn’t that bad. This is a pretty major overreaction, even for Dean. Was it something Balthazar wrote? Surely Dean knew it couldn’t have been Gabriel that sent it.

“Dean, I really don’t know what you’re talking about, care to enlighten me?”

Dean stalks over to the counter, picks up his cellphone and thrusts it at Sam. Sam has to unfold his arms quickly and make a grab for it before it tumbles to the ground.

“You’re paying for my therapy,” Dean growls at him. “Get that shit off my phone. I can’t look at it again.” With that he stalks off to his room, muttering about mental scarring and brain bleach, before slamming the door behind him.

Sam stands there for a moment, holding Dean’s phone, not sure he wants to see either, when he remembers the voice recording. He slips his phone out of his pocket, stops the recording and sends it to Gabriel.

_Dean just turned on his phone. I now have it. Do I want to open pandora’s box?_

Thankfully it doesn’t take Gabriel long to reply, just long enough to fix himself a cup of coffee.

_Hoo boy that was epic. Even better than I expected. Nothin you aint seen before Samcakes._

Sam settles on the sofa, takes a few sips of his coffee and puts it down on the coffee table before opening up his brother’s phone. He’s instantly glad he took the precaution to set down his coffee, because _holy shit_. This is not the same picture that Balthazar sent to everyone else. Or at least Sam really hopes it isn’t. Wow, no wonder his brother lost his shit.

This picture is taken from directly above Gabriel’s sprawled form, and there isn’t a light up candy fan in sight. Sam squints at the picture trying to figure it out. Selfie stick, he finally concludes. Balthazar has apparently gone to the bother of attaching a selfie stick, presumably his own as Gabriel doesn’t own one, thinks they’re too crass and z-list celebrity or something along those lines. The selfie stick and Gabriel’s raised arm have the effect of making it look like Gabriel took this picture himself, the passed out suddenly looking more like eyes closed, sultry. Sam has to hand it to Balthazar, it must have been tricky to get the angle right, capturing Gabriel’s body down to mid thigh, without getting any part of himself in frame at all. Gabriel must have been really out of it, because Balthazar has somehow managed to rearrange his other limbs too without waking him. His legs are spread a little wider and his other hand has been drawn down to his hip. It doesn’t look very natural or convincing if you look closely, but he’s willing to bet his brother didn’t look too closely.

Sam stares down at the picture. It’s actually kinda hot. And owing to Gabriel being surprisingly classy about it, he doesn’t actually have a full frontal of his boyfriend. Looking up quickly to check Dean’s door is still resolutely closed, he quickly forwards the picture to himself, makes sure it’s saved properly on his phone, and deletes the evidence from their conversation. Returning to Balthazar’s original picture, Sam scrolls down to read the accompanying message, his eyebrows raising further and further up his forehead as he does.

That is some really filthy, creative shit. Did his brother actually get as far as reading this? Sam winces. Yeah all in all, the reaction makes a whole lot more sense. Balthazar has written the message as though it was intended for Sam, describing all the things Gabriel apparently wants Sam to do to his body in lurid detail. Nothing is left out and half of it Sam will have to google later, incognito of course. The long drawn out pornographic text is followed by a simple direct message.

_Oops soz Dean-o, wrong brother. My bad._

He knows it’ll piss Dean off even more, but he really can’t help it, because right now he’s the midst of an all consuming, breath stealing giggling fit.

“I can hear you Sammy,” Dean’s voice filters through his door. “So not funny. Get rid of it now. I don’t care if you have to douse it in lighter fluid and burn the fucker. I do not want to see your nympho boyfriend’s junk ever again-”

“It wasn’t him,” Sam shouts back when he catches his breath, interrupting his brother’s tirade.

“Well it sure as hell looks like the little fucker,” Dean shoots back, finally opening his door to glare in Sam’s direction.

“Well, yeah but,” Sam holds up a hand when Dean looks like he’s going to launch into another tirade. “He didn’t take it, didn’t send it. Remember I told you how drunk he was? He passed out. His cousin thought it would be funny to take pictures and send them to people on his contact list.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at that. “You’re shitting me.”

Sam shakes his head, unable to stop the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “We all got the PG-13 version, as far as I can tell, you were the only one who got sent the NC-17.”

“Well aren’t I the lucky one,” Dean drawls, rolling his eyes. “That whole family is batshit. Well except Cas.” He gets a fond look in his eyes, Sam wonders if he even realises it. “Jesus, poor Cas. I’ll need to take him out for a beer when he gets back.”

Sam nods. “Yeah I think he’ll need it.”

Dean sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Can you just get rid of it. I need to hit the shower. I feel all kinds of dirty.” He makes a face and a grabs a towel before heading to the bathroom.

Sam laughs and turns his attention back to Dean’s phone. Safe in the knowledge that he now has a backup of the image on his own phone, he goes about removing it and the offending messages from his brother’s device. Sam’s cell vibrates a couple of times in his pocket, presumably Gabriel, but he ignores it for now. It doesn’t take him long to clear up all the evidence of Balthazar’s little prank. Then he just sits there, staring down at his brother’s phone. He glances up at the closed bathroom door. Dean always spends an age in there. He’d have more than enough time...

Biting his lip, he opens the messaging app again and pulls up the conversation with Cas. He doesn’t read much, just enough to get a feel for how they talk to eachother. It’s actually kind of adorable. There’s a lot of complaining about respective brothers, movie and book recommendations, links to classic rock music videos. There are countless messages here, all staying well clear of expressing actual feelings, but those feelings are so vividly apparent anyway, you just have to read between the lines.

Sam hesitates. He really doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do. Chances are they’ll get there on their own eventually if he leaves it be. But he knows his brother and he thinks he’s really starting to know Cas. That could take an age. All that wasted time. Taking a deep breath he starts typing.

After he’s done he looks over what he’s just written, edits it a little to make it sound more like Dean and hits send before he can change his mind. Wow, shit. He’s not going to wait around for Cas’ reply. He scrambles to his feet and gathers his things together, pulling on his winter coat and pocketing his own phone before placing his brother’s on the counter where he’ll easily be able to find it.

His heart is hammering in his chest as he closes the front door behind him and heads in the direction of the library. There’s every chance his brother won’t speak to him for a week or more. Sam could have just screwed everything up completely, could have completely misread the situation. But he doesn’t think that’s the case. Hell, Sam knows a thing or two about being too afraid to take a risk. Gabriel gave him the push, or ten that he really needed, along with the help of those purple nurples of course. Dean’s clearly too afraid to make that leap on his own. So what can Sam do, but provide that little push.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam hits the books, attempting some research in the hope that he might find inspiration for his senior project. He's not hiding from Dean. And he's definitely not distracted by thoughts of Gabriel...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing the art back in finally!

On his way to the library, Sam shoots off a message to Gabriel, ignoring his requests for a detailed description of Dean’s horrified expressions and letting him know that his phone will be switched off all day. The excuse he gives, is that he needs to focus on his studies. The reality? He wants to put off the inevitable shitstorm he most likely put into motion, for as long as possible.

When he arrives at the library, he pulls a few books off the shelf and finds a quiet corner to study. He starts with the French painter Pierre Bonnard. Some people find his use of color a little on the garish side, but Sam rather likes it. It’s not exactly his style, but there’s a certain joyful asthetic to those vibrant landscapes and bright interiors. His unconventional compositions, inspired by photography and japanese woodcuts, are compelling too. There’s a sense of capturing a snap shot in time, bundling a memory up and spreading it out over the canvas in a way that will preserve that memory forever. Sam flicks through the pages displaying Bonnard’s photographic collection. While Sam enjoys drawing from life, the use of photography certainly opens up certain options that would otherwise be difficult to achieve. The interactions between too people for example, perhaps two lovers. Sam flushes at the thought, his mind instantly drawn into the idea of capturing himself with Gabriel, caught in an intimate act.

Trying to distract himself from his inner thoughts, Sam flicks further through the book. These are his favorites, the series of paintings capturing images of his wife reposed in a bathtub. There’s a beautiful sensitivity and reverence in the way he sees the woman he loves. Ok so Sam knows the history, knows the tragedy that occurred when the painter’s attentions strayed, but his love for this woman is still so very apparent. It’s a common story, the artist falling in lust with their model. Sam guesses he’s lucky that he met Gabriel when there was no one else in his life and that his feelings run far deeper than a desperate need to touch the beautiful body he so loves to paint.

And now he’s back to thinking about Gabriel again. Thinking about capturing an image of Gabriel relaxing in a bathtub, his naked body taking on an almost mythical quality, seen through the lens of the bathwater. Or maybe Sam would be there too, sat behind his lover, legs framing Gabriel’s hips, arms around him, Gabriel leaning his head back on Sam’s chest as he floats weightless in Sam’s embrace. With a camera on a tripod they could... Christ these thoughts just won’t go away. Sighing, Sam returns the Bonnard book to the shelf and picks up the Monet. He definitely needs to focus on landscapes right now.

~~~

The morning passes quickly, Sam gets lost in his research, finally focused on painting techniques and color theory, rather than day dreaming. He only surfaces when he can’t ignore his rumbling stomach anymore. He packs up his things and heads to the local bistro. It’s more expensive than the junk that most students fill their bellies with, and Sam has to be a little careful about how often he does this, but he doesn’t want his health to suffer when he’s studying, so he makes concessions elsewhere.

Sam orders a quinoa and sweet potato salad (hipster food his brother would call it, no doubt making a disgusted face) and sits down at a window seat, looking out at the people passing by on the street outside. It’s cold outside and most are walking at a rapid pace, shoulders hunched against the November chill, faces buried in scarves and hats. Sam often comes here to sketch, sometimes capturing the solid lines and quirky decor of the interior; sometimes looking outwards, people watching in the way an artist can’t help but do, with ink and pencil and loose washes of watercolor paint.

After a few moments of watching the world go by, Sam opens his backpack and pulls out his sketchbook. He doesn’t put pen to paper, but instead flicks slowly through his previous work. Time is swiftly marching on and if he doesn’t start getting his act together, he’s going to fail his course at the last hurdle. There are a few rough compositional thumbnail sketches proceeding it, but the first real sketch in here of Gabriel catches his eye.

He’d always been tempted of course, but he had been shy, afraid Gabriel would catch him watching, catch him sketching. That night though, that had been different. Perhaps he knew from the get go that he no longer cared if he was caught, that he maybe even wanted Gabriel to know he liked to watch him.

The sketch shows Gabriel in costume, Hallowe’en night. Before the purple nurples, but definitely a couple of beers in. Gabriel is leaning over the bar, chatting to someone, lips quirked into a playful smirk. Sam has drawn the costume as it was, the thin fabric of the toga covering only one side of his chest, but he’s left out the plastic headband with wire halo, which Gabriel had ditched later anway. And instead of the large cardboard and feather wings, held on by elastic, he has drawn huge, sweeping feathered appendages. Real Angel wings, sprouting from between Gabriel’s shoulders. Too big to fit in the given space without knocking countless bottles from the shelves, but seeming somehow like they really belong there anyway.

Sam stares at the drawing, an idea starting to form in his mind. Angels have been used in art for centuries, from epic depictions of bible passages to more symbolic renditions. Sometimes portrayed as masculine in form, sometimes feminine, though often sexless. It’s only a half formed thought at the moment, but what he has in mind is a little more unconventional and certainly not sexless. No quite the opposite. He looks at Gabriel’s beautiful features, at the wings that look like they belong to this quirky, fantastical being.

And just like that, realisation dawns on him. He’s been thinking about this the wrong way all along. Gabriel isn’t a distraction from his senior project, Gabriel _is_ his senior project. Ellen had tried to tell him, without saying a word. It was there in the pieces she had chosen. Not just the controversial ones, but the others she had picked out too. All Gabriel. All his best work. And it’s so obvious now. Because he doesn’t just paint or draw Gabriel. He draws a little piece of his soul out of his being and onto the paper. They’re not just paintings, but love letters, declaring the love and adoration he has for this man to the world. The thought should terrify him, but somehow it doesn’t. Somehow it just feels right.

Biting his lip, he nods to himself, suddenly feeling elated and inspired. Clearing away his lunch and packing his sketchbook securely in his backpack, Sam heads back to the library. He has a whole lot of research to do.

~~~

Sam settles in his favorite quiet corner. Surrounded by piles of books, he grabs his notepad and sketchbook and just dives in. He starts at the beginning, with early depictions in Byzantine art and roughly moves through the artistic periods in history, sometimes detouring onto related subjects, like the winged figure of the Greek Goddess Nike and of course Eros, the Greek God of love. One volume declares that Eros was often regarded as the protector of homosexual love between men. Sam raises his eyebrows at that and bookmarks the page with a scrap of paper.

Sam makes note of some of the more striking images he comes across. He’ll pull them up on his laptop later and print them off for inspiration. Guido Reni’s depiction of the Archangel Michael shows both grace and strength. William-Adolphe Bouguereau’s ‘Song of the Angels’ is a beautiful example of a typical Neoclassical rendition. Sam loves the softness of the feminine features and the pure white splendor of the Angel’s wings. Moving forward to more modern times, the styles diverge in wonderful ways. From the symbolic Choir of Angels in Klimt’s ‘Beethoven Frieze’, to Dali’s eclectic near obsession in later life.

By the time Sam finally breaks from his research and glances at his watch, the afternoon has drawn into early evening and the library is near empty. The librarian gives him a pointed look that Sam guesses means she wants to close up early and he’s massively inconveniencing her by being here. Taking the hint, he clears away his things, selecting a couple of books to check out and shelfing the rest.

When Sam steps out of the library, hefting his backpack and pulling his coat more tightly around him, he’s at a bit of a loss as to what to do. He knows exactly how cowardly he’s being, but he really doesn’t want to head home and face the music just yet. The local diner isn’t too far from here. Perhaps he can stretch to a light dinner.

Sam sighs. Ok, so maybe it’s time to switch on his phone. As he walks in the direction of the diner, he pulls it out of his pocket. He hesitates, feeling a sense of foreboding. Immediately he feels like an overdramatic fool. Admonishing himself for being an idiot, he switches it on before he can change his mind. His phone vibrates like crazy for what feels like a full minute as message after message is delivered to his device. _Christ_. Nerves on edge, he opens the messaging app. Both Dean and Gabriel have sent him multiple messages. He’s oh so tempted to open the conversation with Gabriel first, but he knows he owes his brother more than that.

Biting his lip and steeling himself, he flips open the conversation.

_YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!!!_

Ok, Sam was expecting that, though maybe the three following messages saying pretty much the same thing in a variety of colorful terms is a little overkill. Sam scrolls down.

_SWITCH ON YOUR PHONE SAMMY. I MEAN IT!!_

Again, more threats, Dean using up his usual profanity quotient for week, in the space of only a few messages. Sam winces when he sees the promise of Nair in shampoo bottle again. Ok, better grab a fresh bottle on the way home, just in case.

_Ok fine, be like that. I know that little fucker had something to do with this. Just so you know, next time I see him I’m going to-_

Sam winces as he reads through his brother’s tirade. He feels pretty shitty that Gabriel’s getting the blame for this, when it’s really all on him. All in all he feels pretty fucking guilty. Apparently he was wrong and he may have just just completely fucked things up for his brother...

But then he scrolls down to read the next message and he feels a broad smile spread across his face.

_Don’t think for one minute I’m letting you off the hook but... uh thanks... Ok._

The message is followed by the inevitable _Bitch_

Sam’s halts and looks down at his screen, thumb poised over the virtual keyboard.

_I’m sorry. I’m glad it worked out, jerk._

A moment later he realises he should clarify something and hastily adds.

_Please don’t blame Gabriel. This was all on me._

He sends the message and sighs in relief. Continuing on towards the Bistro, he pulls up the conversation with Gabriel and sighs again at the first message that appears on his screen.

_You sneaky S.O.B!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post these a bit more slowly, making sure I kept well ahead in the writing, but I'm heading to see my folks for a week and I don't want to make you wait for the the epic porn scene so I'm trying to get these chapters out tonight. Honestly I'm not sure how I feel about where this fic has gone, I kind of wrote myself into a hole with the long separation (there was a reason for it, but it's a long story). I was keen to keep things simple for myself for my first fic in ages by sticking to one P.O.V. but obviously they had to communicate. Despite efforts to inject pleny of humor into their exchanges I'm not sure how successful I've been. I hope the porny chapter will rectify that a little and I'll attempt to avoid the same pitfalls in any subsequent work! I kinda like my little verse and I'd like to explore more. I'd like to write their meeting and courtship and I've got many ideas for a sequel. No more long separations though, I promise! Hmm maybe some time stamps from different P.O.Vs to fill in the blanks too. We'll see. I'm not sure how much time I'll have when I start my foundation art diploma in September, but I'll certainly try to add to the verse in the future.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel arrange a 'phone date' and Sam gets way too distracted in class just thinking about it.

Sam has just given his order, when his phone begins to ring. Despite Dean’s last message, Sam is still a little apprehensive when he slips his phone from his pocket, feeling a sense of relief when he sees it’s Gabriel.

“Hey, Gabe.”

Sam can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when he hears Gabriel’s melodic drawl on the other end.

“Sam! Where the hells have you been? You went rogue on me Sam-bear. Completed the mish solo, left no fun for me. I had plans, Sam, plans!”

“I saw the opportunity and I took it. Dean normally guards that phone with his life.” A smirk quirks the corner of his lips. “And hey, you did help,” his eyes dart about the diner, making sure no one is listening, “or at least your ah... dick did.”

Gabriel chuckles into the phone. “You may have a point there.” He pauses and Sam closes his eyes for a brief moment, listening to Gabriel’s gentle breaths. “Ok spill, how’d you do it?” Gabriel finally asks.

Sam shrugs his shoulders, belatedly realising Gabriel can’t see him. “Ah, I just asked him out. Or rather I made Dean ask him out. You know what I mean.”

Gabriel snorts out an exhasperated breath. “You’re kidding? The most drawn out, personal space defying, will they won’t they of the century, sexual tension you could cut with a knife... You just..? Wow. I bow to your clearly superior match making powers.”

Sam has to hold the phone away from his ear as Gabriel follows up with a whistle and claps loudly into the microphone.

“How’d you know it was me?” Sam asks when Gabriel’s congratulations have finally trailed off.

Gabriel’s laugh is loud enough to make Sam wince and hold the phone a little further from his ear again.

“Oh come on!” Gabriel chuckles into the phone. “My brother gets a message from Dean-o and looks like he’s been handed the answer to life the universe and everything- ”

“42”, Sam interrupts, unable to stop himself.

Sam can hear the smile in Gabriel’s voice when he replies. “So long and thanks for all the fish, Arthur. Any old how, Cassie gets the message... Let me see... Hmm right about when Balthy and the magical powers of my dick have granted you access to your brother’s phone. Don’t exactly have to be Nancy Drew to figure that one out.”

“You may have a point there,” Sam says with a small smile. “You didn’t...”

“What do you think I am? An amateur? Pulease. Have more faith in me Samkins.”

There’s a pause on the other end. When Gabriel’s voice returns it’s sounding considerably more breathy. “Soooooo... what’re you wearing?... Let me guess... Flannel.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Gabe-”

“Go on, ask me what I’m wearing,” Gabriel interrupts, answering the unuttered question before Sam has a chance to respond. “Nada, niente-”

“Gabriel, I am not having phone sex with you right now,” Sam hisses into his phone, realising a little too late that the waitress has just arrived with his meal.

Sam flushes scarlet as she gives him a knowing look, places the plate in front of him, says “Enjoy,” the playful lilt in her voice suggesting she’s not talking about the food, and winks at him before bustling off to serve the next table.

“Hello? Earth to Sam. Why not? Cassie’s out, I just cracked open my favorite bottle of lube...”

Sam sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Because I’m not at home? Because I’m eating dinner? Because I’m surrounded by-”

Gabriel interrupts with an annoyed huff. “Ok fine... You could just listen while I-”

Sam squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Gabriel, no.”

“Saaaaaaam,” Gabriel whines into the phone.

Eyes darting around again to make sure no one will hear him this time, Sam grits out, “I am not walking out of here with a raging hard on Gabe.”

Gabriel chuckles into the phone. “But that would be such a gorgeous sight. You’re giving me some great material here Sam. Keep it up. Bet you’ve got a pretty pink blush on your cheeks right now haven’t you. Are your nipples starting to harden? Mine are...”

Sam makes a face as he hears what sounds suspiciously like a bottle of lube being opened. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Send me some... more material... Sam,” Gabriel stutters between gasps.

_Christ_. Sam ends the call, his jeans already feeling way too tight. Placing the phone down beside his plate, Sam sighs and runs his hands through his hair. _Goddamit_, Gabriel’s overactive libido’s going to be the death of him. Taking a few deep breaths, Sam tries calm himself. His dick takes a bit longer to get with the program, but finally he can think straight.

An idea suddenly occurs to him that makes his lips pull into a small, somewhat devious smile. Picking up his fork in one hand and his phone in the other, he starts to eat his now luke warm dinner while pulling up a few academic articles on the psychological benefits of masturbation. He copies the links and pastes them into a message. When he’s satisfied, he adds, _Some masturbation material for you_, hits the send symbol and waits for Gabriel’s reaction.

Sam’s almost done eating when Gabriel’s reply appears on his screen, in the form of an epic bitchface selfie. Sam huffs out a laugh, but can’t help finding the image more than a bit of a turn on. Gabriel’s cheeks and neck are flushed and he’s still clearly naked. His head is tilted to one side, hair mussed up, golden eyes glaring daggers at Sam, promising punishment. Sam swallows as he feels his dick start to react again.

_Just so you know, I’m withholding pube selfies until you apologise._

Sam shakes his head and smiles as he types out a sarcastic response before leaving some money on the table, picking up his belongings, and shrugging on his coat. It’s time to leave before Gabriel can find any more ways to embarass him.

~~~

The next few days pass a lot faster than expected. Between lessons, he’s keeping busy with research and preparations for the exhibition. Since Sam’s way too embarassed to take his work to a framers, Ellen is helping him frame it by hand and in exchange, Sam’s going to help her hang the exhibition.

Dean’s been in way too good a mood to give him too much shit. He’s got an almost permanent dopey grin on his face and Sam frequently catches him singing to himself. That said, Sam’s keeping his fresh bottle of shampoo hidden in his room, just in case.

Dean and Cas have been constantly messaging each other and having long conversations on the phone. Sam is so very tempted to make a comment about teenage girls, but honestly he can hardly talk, as he and Gabriel are still keeping up a constant stream of messages themselves. Though Sam’s been avoiding any more phonecalls, as he has a feeling he knows where they’d end up. Eventually after an enormous amount of pestering, Sam has agreed to a ‘phone date’ on Wednesday. He has the afternoon free and can make sure he’s back home in time. Dean will be at work, so when the inevitable occurs, he won’t be inflicting any more mental scarring on his brother.

In the meantime, Gabriel’s been keeping him up to date with the status of operation “Cuckoo’s Nest”. After their first conversation on the matter, Gabriel came up with a “genius” addition to their plan. On Wednesday night, all the cousins are due to embark on an “epic” bar crawl. Gabriel had voluteered to help Gadreel and Hannah scout out their route and kept vetoing venues on the basis that they didn’t have a juke box, or their juke box didn’t contain a certain song by a certain well known Canadian starlet. By the fifth veto, Hannah had started to get suspicious and so Gabriel had decided to recruit them both to the cause.

_How the hell did you manage that one? From what you’ve said, they both seem way more sensible than the rest of your family._ Sam had asked, curious. 

_You haven’t seen Hannah on the dance floor after a coupla Pina Coladas, bumpin Coyote Uglies with the locals. It’s truly a sight to behold. Anyways, I just gave them a sob story about Balthy almost losing me my job. Really laid it on thick. Had to employ puppy dog eyes that would put you to shame Sammy. But hey presto, two minions to do my bidding._

_Shit, did Ellen really almost fire you?_

_Hells no, Sammy. I’m her best model. Hottest by far. Nope, she was just messing with me. Though she gave me shit about siccing Cassie on her._

And so Gabriel and his minions had plotted out the perfect route and planned out a rota of who was going to distract and who was going to hit the jukebox. It had been agreed of course that Gabriel could never be seen anywhere near it, so that he could protest his innocence. He would always be in Balthazar’s sight, always with someone who could give him an alibi. And the grand finale? A karaoke bar, where Hannah had agreed to belt out the number, in exchange for a steady supply of cocktails.

With Gadreel on board, the ringtones and rental car the next day would be a breeze. Gabriel has promised to document the whole spectacle for Sam and Sam finds he’s really rather looking forward to seeing Gabriel’s wacky family drama unfold.

~~~

Finally the big day arrives. Sam awakens to his regular morning Gabriel selfie. Gabriel has chosen cute today, he looks for all the world like a puppy dog, snuggled up in his covers, hair looking especially ruffled. Sam smiles at the image and scrolls down to read the accompanying message.

_Bonjour mon amour. Ready for our date? Borrowing Cassie’s laptop especially. Get ready for my beautiful face._

Sam raises a sceptical eyebrow and types out a reply. There’s no point in shying away from it. They both know what’s going to happen.

_Castiel has loaned you his laptop? Really? He does know what you’re going to use it for right?_

_Ok so borrow might be a little strong a word... Who cares, he’s way too busy mooning over Dean-o to notice and he and Hannah are taking a trip to some stuffy museum. Come on Samcakes, you know you miss my sweet tush too much to pass up on this golden opportunity._

And Sam knows he’s just trying to save face, because of course he’s going to say yes. The thought of seeing Gabriel’s gorgeous smirk in action, the thought of him slowly unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them over his hips... Sam closes his eyes tightly and tries to talk his dick down. If his mind goes any further this way, then he’ll need to take care of things in the shower, and he really wants to wait for this afternoon when his release will be that much sweeter.

_Do you even know his password?_

Sam feels like he has to check. If he’s going to get as worked up as he knows he will just thinking about it, he’d rather avoid what would be a crushing disappointment.

_He uses a pin number and it took me a ridiculously short time to figure it out. I’ll give you a clue, it involves your dope of a big brother._

Sam furrows his brow and thinks for a second. Not his birthday, Cas is terrible with technology, but he’s far from stupid. A wide grin spreads across Sam’s face as the obvious answer comes to him.

_1967_

_Don’t let anyone tell you you’re just a pretty face._

_So my gorgeous hunk of sexiness, what do you say?_

Sam smiles as he types out his reply.

_It’s a date._

~~~

The morning passes at a crawl, but Sam doesn’t mind too much, as he’s rather enjoying the feeling of anticipation. Gabriel sends him several pictures as usual. A visual account of his day. The first shows a tall stack of pancakes swimming in maple syrup, presumably Gabriel’s breakfast. Sam winces as he takes a sip of his OJ. Much like Dean, Gabriel has been blessed with an impressive metabolism, but that amount of sugar on a regular basis can not be good for his health.

After Sam’s morning run and shower Sam sends Gabriel a picture from his run, hoping it might inspire him into some healthier activites. Gabriel sends a slightly disturbing message detailing how he’d like to lick the sweat off Sam’s naked body, but then follows up with a picture of himself doing what looks like a yoga pose, in nothing but a pair of bright red satin boxer shorts. Sam swallows around the lump in his throat and talks his dick down for the second time.

His first class is one of his Art History modules. Keen to avoid pissing off his Professor again, he makes sure his phone is switched off. But he’s still distracted. His mind keeps drifting back to Gabriel and their imminent “date”. He imagines Gabriel stripping for him, he imagines the dirty talk spilling from his quirked lips, describing all the wicked things he wants to do to Sam’s body. And of course Sam will have a few ideas of his own faced with all that gorgeous flushed skin. He’ll tell Gabriel of the fresh bruises he wants to suck into the delicate skin of his neck, maybe one on the softness of his belly too. He’ll talk about slipping a slick finger inside his body and pressing right there and- He’s rudely interrupted from his fantasy by a sharp kick to the shin. He looks up and glares at Charlie, who smiles knowingly at him and mouths, _You were drooling... again._

He doesn’t fare any better in his mixed media class. All his abstract pieces are turning out to look faintly phalic and he’s using the color gold way more than he usually does. The tutor raises an eyebrow when he looks over Sam’s work, but thankfully doesn’t make comment.

Finally the class ends and he grabs a quick lunch at the canteen with Charlie and Kevin, one of the guys from her computing classes and also a member of her D&D group. He knows he’s being anti social, but he buries his head in his phone while he eats, reading through the messages Gabriel sent while he was in class. Sam tunes out their conversation, something about their latest campaign and Charlie’s evil Dungeon Master ways, and scrolls through several images from what looks like a city tour on an old cable car converted into a bus.

The first image shows Gabriel on the bus, snuggled up under a blanket with a pretty brunette beside him, Hannah according to the accompanying message. As he’s held his phone high above his head, Sam can see several members of the family in the rows behind. Luke and Balthazar are in the row directly behind him, both flipping off the camera. Balthazar is also making a gesture with his other hand, that Sam is pretty sure means he’s calling Gabriel a wanker. In the back, Castiel is caught making a face at Balthazar. The porceline skinned redhead beside him is as pretty as Hannah, despite the unflattering guffaw captured on her features. Half of Gadreel’s wide grin can be seen as he leans over the aisle diving him from the rest of the group.

As ever, Sam’s eyes are drawn to Gabriel’s smiling face. He has Sam’s scarf wrapped around his neck. Gabriel had been reluctant to part with it, burying his face in the close knit material and breathing in Sam’s scent, so Sam had told him he could keep it. His hair is whipping wildly about his face and there’s a layer of scruff on his jaw and upper lip, like he hasn’t bothered to shave in a few days. Sam thinks it rather suits him.

The following series of images show Gabriel, sometimes solo, sometimes with a cousin in tow, pulling ridiculous poses in front of the city’s most famous landmarks, interspersed with pictures of the multitude of sweet treats Gabriel has indulged in. From cotton candy, to cream filled pastries, to a huge lollipop crudely shaped like a penis, Gabriel has consumed a tooth rotteningly large amount of sugar today. The image of Gabriel sucking said lollipop hungrily into is mouth, makes Sam shuffle uncomfortably in his seat. Charlie shoots him another knowing glance before returning to her conversation about underused 5th level MU spells.

When an image of Gabriel posing with his arms stretched into the air - a flash of belly showing where his shirt has ridden up - causes Sam’s body to react in a similar manner, he realises it’s past time to leave. Making his rather flimsy excuses, Sam leaves his somewhat amused friends behind and heads for home. It’s still a couple of hours until their arranged date, but hanging around here, getting increasingly horny, isn’t doing him any good at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up... Chapter Porny McPornison


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel have their little (spectacularly pornographic) date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Runs onto screen, lobs a pornado at you, runs off*. In all seriousness this is indeed very porny, but also kinda fluffy. Definitely porn with a boat load of feelings and smidge of mutual insecurities.

When Sam arrives home, he tidies away his belongings and makes himself a pot of coffee. Finding himself pacing back and forth nervously, he decides to spend a few minutes setting things up. While neither Gabriel nor himself have uttered it out loud, they both know exactly what this date will be about and such things require a little preparation.

He experiments on his bed, propping pillows and trying to arrange his body in a way that will let him see his laptop and give Gabriel a reasonable view of his body. It’s a lot trickier than he realised. To obtain a wide enough view, he’s a little too far for the outdated mic on his laptop and there isn’t enough height. After a moment’s thought, he pulls his foldable easel out from under the bed and rummaging around his old gaming kit in the living room, he looks out a bluetooth headset. He’s going to look dorky as hell, but he’s pretty sure the stretched out view of his body will be distracting enough that Gabriel won’t mock him too much.

All set up and ready to go, Sam sits on his bed, staring at his laptop screen. He feels wired, nerves on edge. He’s never done anything like this before. Running shaking hands through his hair, he realises that last coffee was probably a bad idea. He’s pretty sure Dean stashed a couple of beers in the fridge, so he pads through to the kitchen to grab a bottle. He’s half way back to his room when the distinctive sounds of an incoming call come through his headset. Rushing back to the room, almost toppling the easel over in the process, he scrambles onto his bed and accepts the incoming signal just before it times out.

A close up of Gabriel’s quirked lips appears on his screen, before he sits back and Sam is treated to a view of the lower half of his body, jean clad legs crossed undearneath him on the bedspread. Gabriel huffs out an annoyed sound and wedges something under the laptop, adjusting the angle until Sam can finally see his face.

“Hey,” Sam says softly into the microphone.

“Hey yourself,” Gabriel says, then squinting into the screen and following up with a raised eyebrow, he adds, “you giant nerd.”

“Hands free,” Sam replies with a suggestive smile, wiggling his digits in the air.

Gabriel quirks his lips and wiggles his eyebrows in return. Sam’s heart stutters in his chest at the sight. Gabriel looks gorgeous in the multitude of pictures he has sent Sam since they parted, but nothing compares to seeing his mobile features in motion. Still images just don’t do him justice.

Perhaps seeing something in Sam’s expression, Gabriel’s features soften and he looks at Sam with a small, almost shy smile. Unable to help himself, Sam reaches out and runs a fingertip over the image of Gabriel’s cheek. Gabriel’s lips pull into a wider smile, dimples appearing at the corners. He leans forward and all that Sam can see for a moment, is a fuzzy image of the gold strands in Gabriel’s hair. Sam’s stomach does a little flip flop as he realises Gabriel is pressing a kiss to Sam’s image on Cas’ laptop screen.

As he settles back on the bed, Gabriel lets out a long breath.

“You have no idea how much I miss you Sam.” The shyness is gone, his gaze turning heated.

Sam swallows, his pulse rate quickening. He runs his tongue over suddenly dry lips. Gabriel’s eyes appear to follow the motion and he draws his own lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it. Sam desperately wants to kiss him, to run his tongue along that beautiful lower lip, demand access to Gabriel’s mouth.

“I want to kiss you,” he blurts out, cheeks flushing with how awkward he’s already being.

“I’m kissing you right now,” Gabriel purrs, voice like molten honey, “deep n dirty. I’m running my hands through your hair, tugging it.” Gabriel’s eyes flick up to Sam’s hair and he motions with his head.

It takes Sam a moment to realise what Gabriel means, then flushing even more, he tentatively runs his own hands through his hair, knocking the headset askew. Gabriel chuckles and Sam shoots him a bitchface as he straightens out the headset. It only serves to make Gabriel laugh even harder.

“Oh Sam, now you’re _really_ turning me on,” he smirks.

Determined not to be derailed by Gabriel’s amusement, Sam tries again, grasping hold of the hair at the back of his neck. The sensation on his scalp feels good, if not quite the way it feels when Gabriel does it to him.

“What are your hands doing, Sam?” Gabriel prompts.

Sam lets his gaze wander over Gabriel’s body. So many delicious options. His eyes finally land on already hardened nipples. The peaked flesh stands out clearly through the thin fabric of Gabriel’s dark green shirt. Sam bites his lip.

“I’m ah... rubbing a thumb over one nipple.” His eyes flick up to the button placket on the front of Gabriel’s shirt. One of the buttons is already undone, but Sam wants to see more. Gesturing at the front of Gabriel’s shirt he adds, “And I’m ah undoing those buttons with my other hand.”

Gabriel smiles widely and his hands move to comply, gasping as his thumb rubs across his own peaked nipple. “That feels good Sammy,” he drawls, thumbing open the buttons with his other hand, exposing pale skin that’s already starting to flush that beautiful rosy hue.

That little sliver of skin is delicious, but Sam desperately wants to see more, much more. Unsure if he’s moving things along way too fast Sam stutters out, “I want to see you naked. Can you, can you strip for me?”

Gabriel smiles broadly, eyes glittering with good humour. “I thought you’d never ask Samcakes.”

He turns the laptop around and hops off the bed, adjusting the angle a little to show as much of his body as he can fit on the screen. His movements are slow and surprisingly graceful as he pulls the shirt off over his head. Sam’s breath hitches as he takes in the planes of Gabriel’s naked chest, the strong biceps, the dusting of chest hair and slight softness of his belly, looking a touch more pronounced with all the sweet treats Gabriel’s been consuming over the last few days. Gabriel doesn’t hestitate for long before moving his hands down to unbutton his jeans and ease them off over his hips, his hard cock springing free from confinement. He bends down to pull the jeans off his legs, loose curls falling forward over his face.

Sam just stares, drinking in the beautiful sight, only broken from his trance long moments later when Gabriel clears his throat loudly.

“Much as I enjoy watching you salivate over my smokin hot bod Sam, this aint a spectator sport,” Gabriel says, raising one eyebrow and quirking his lips into a smirk.

“I... ah.. sorry,” Sam stutters, quickly fumbling his buttons open as a chuckling Gabriel readjusts the laptop screen and scrambles onto his bed.

Sam can’t easily shift the position of his own laptop so he strips awkwardly on the bed, rolling his eyes at Gabriel’s wolf whistles and generally unhelpful running commentary.

When Sam is finally naked, Gabriel’s demenor shifts quickly from playful to preditory. He bites his lower lip again and makes a show of running his eyes up and down Sam’s form. A shiver run’s down Sam’s spine under the intensity of his gaze.

Gabriel draws in a breath and blows it out slowly. “Holy hell Sam, you are sex personified.”

His eyes dart away and he shakes his head minutely. Sam can’t read Gabriel as well as Gabriel seems to be able to read him, but this one he does catch. This little insecurity. Like he can’t quite believe Sam is with him. Can’t quite understand why he would want to be. It’s there for a fleeting moment, gone an instant later as Gabriel’s expression shifts into a familiar smirk, but it makes Sam’s heart ache nevertheless.

Gabriel shifts back on the bed and grabs a bottle of lube.

“Ready to get this show on the road bucko?” he drawls, eyebrows doing a little suggestive dance.

Sam’s pulse quickens at the thought of seeing Gabriel touch himself again. Unable to trust his voice, he just nods his head.

Gabriel smiles knowingly at him and starts to position himself on the bed. He shoves a pillow under his hips, tilting them upwards. Laying back on the bed, he then cranes his neck to see the laptop screen, grimacing at the slightly unflattering double chin the awkward postion produces. Sam tries very hard to suppress a laugh as he wiggles around on the bed, trying unsuccessfully to find a position that’s both comfortable and sexy. Gabriel shoots him a glare and hops off the bed, returning on screen a moment later with extra pillows. From Cas’ bed Sam presumes, slightly horrified at the thought.

After a full five minutes of Gabriel positioning and repositioning himself, Sam’s staring to get a little impatient. “You look gorgeous Gabe,” Sam attempts to reassure him.

Gabriel makes a little face, seeing some flaw or another, but then shrugs his shoulders and schools his features.

“Alright Sam, what do you want to do to my body,” he says, sweeping an arm down his prone form.

Sam licks his lips and hesitates. There’s something that comes to mind, but he’s not sure he can say it out loud.

“I ah... I’m going to... I mean I am... opening up your body...” he trails off, cheeks flaming red once more.

“I really like where this is going Sam, but you’re gonna have to give me all the juicy deets,” Gabriel says with a filthy smirk on his face.

Sam grabs the largely forgotten bottle of beer from his night stand and takes a few sips, before replacing it. Taking a deep breath he adds, “with my tongue.”

Gabriel’s eyes widen and Sam can see his cock twitch. After a moment of gaping, Gabriel gives a low whistle. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy there you go being a dark horse again. I was not expecting that little gem.”

Sam feels his face go even redder and he looks away, tension gripping his body. Has he said something wrong? Is Gabriel grossed out by him, it seems unlikely... but... it wouldn’t be the first time he’s disgusted a partner.

When Sam looks up at the screen again, Gabriel’s looking at him with concern furrowing his brow.

“Sam, in what messed up Universe do you think I’d consider that a bad thing?” Gabriel sighs. Then, a bright smile spreading across his features, he adds, “Since your delectable tongue is over 200 miles away and contrary to popular belief, I can’t actually lick my own ass, I’m adding it to the Fucket list. Holy hells Sam, I want nothing more than to feel your tongue buried inside my ass, feel you licking me open.” He makes a growling sound in the back of his throat and clicks the bottle of lube open. “Describe it to me.”

And Sam does. He’s nervous at first, but gains more confidence as he continues, spurred on by the reactions his words are eliciting. Sam describes the way he’s licking a stripe over Gabriel’s opening, the way he pauses to circle his hole on the second pass, before dipping the very tip of his tongue just inside, teasing at the rim. Gabriel is gasping and groaning and teasing at his opening with one fingertip, imaging it’s Sam’s tongue. Sam is equally turned on, by his own words, by the thought of doing this in reality, by the sight of Gabriel pleasuring himself on Sam’s laptop screen. And most definitely by the sounds. Gabriel makes the most deliciously wanton sounds when he pleasures himself.

“I’m.. ah... I’m stroking your dick,” Gabriel gasps out somewhat inelegantly between moans, “fondling your balls with my other hand.”

“How does that work?” Sam snorts out a laugh.

Gabriel stops teasing his hole long enough to shoot Sam an incredulous look. “Hellllllo, numero sesenta y nueve?” He rolls his eyes at Sam’s confused look. “69?” A devilish smile spreads across his features and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively “Want me to give you a blow job instead.” Then he makes a face as he looks down the long length of Sam’s body. “Imagine I’m taller or you’re more flexible.”

“I’m pretty flexible,” Sam says with a devilish smile of his own.

“Fucket list,” Gabriel says, biting on his lower lip and regarding Sam with a heavy gaze. “Tell me what you’re doing with that tongue Sam. I’m still fondling those balls, but my mouth thinks you’re the most tempting lollipop I’ve ever seen, gotta have a taste.”

Heat pools in Sam’s groin, as Gabriel’s tongue darts out and sweeps along his lower lip. He grasps hold of his heavily leaking erection and starts stroking it lightly, reaching down with his other hand to roll his balls gently. He tells Gabriel that his tongue is dipping further inside, circling around Gabriel’s inner walls, watching hungrily as Gabriel’s finger slides all the way inside his body. He describes how he draws his tongue back, catching the rim with a flick, before thrusting back inside. Between ragged gasps, Gabriel describes the way his own tongue is teasing at Sam’s slit, licking up the pre-come, reveling in the taste of him.

After a few moments, Gabriel stutters out, “Not that I’m... not enjoying the... mental... image, but... I need a little more... actual...” He flaps his free hand about.

Sam raises his eyebrows. He’s been so caught up in the fantasy, that he’d almost forgotten he isn’t actually doing these things to Gabriel, that Gabriel is currently only fucking himself with one finger, leaking cock completely untouched.

“Shit, sorry Gabe. I’m stroking your cock and-”

“Nope, not that,” Gabriel interrupts, “Not yet anyways... Got a surprise for you later, just need you to... open me up a bit more.”

Sam’s eyebrows climb higher up his forehead. That sounds... interesting. “Ok uh... I’m ah... adding a finger, edging it inside-”

He halts as Gabriel holds up his free hand, two fingers raised. Sam gives him a questioning look, _are you sure_, but when Gabriel just rolls his eyes, Sam continues. He describes how he eases two fingers into Gabriel’s entrance along side the tongue, watching in amazement as Gabriel adds more lube and starts nudging at his hole with three digits. It doesn’t take long before the muscles relax and he starts edging them in with short thrusts. He’s breathing heavily, skin flushed all the way down to the centre of his chest. Sam talks him through the intrusion, detailing the way his tongue is massaging his inner walls, soothing the sting.

When it looks like Gabriel’s body has adjusted, Sam describes how he’s stretching his fingers out a little and thrusting his tongue in and out. Gabriel dutifully stretches his fingers open and draws them almost all the way out of his body, before pulling them together again and slipping them back inside his body. The motion makes his head fall back on the pile of pillows, a long and loud groan escaping from parted lips.

Enjoying the sounds Gabriel is making, Sam tells of how he’s now searching inside Gabriel’s tight channel, crooking his fingers, hunting for that sweet spot. Gabriel’s eyes latch on to his and he regards Sam with blown pupils circled in gold, fingers exploring inside his body until he pauses, clearly finding that little bundle of nerves, but waiting for Sam’s instruction.

“I found it,” Sam says, heat pulsing in his groin. “I’m pressing on it, massaging it, making your back arch and... you... cry out with pleasure.”

And that’s exactly what happens as Gabriel presses his finger tips right there. The sight is breathtaking. Gabriel’s body arching off the bed, a gutteral cry falling from his lips. Sam doesn’t give him much time to breathe before he’s decribing how he’s thrusting fingers and tongue inside Gabriel’s body, nudging his sweet spot with every stroke. Gabriel’s making a valiant attempt to decribe the blow job he’s giving Sam, but the words are clumsy and mumbled and Sam misses half of what he’s saying. It doesn’t matter, the groans and the cries are all he needs, the sight of Gabriel coming apart under his own hands and Sam’s words. Sam speeds up his own stroking a bit, twisting on the up strokes. He feels the pleasure building in his groin. He’s close and Gabriel appears the same way...

“Wait!” Gabriel suddenly exclaims. “I can’t... not yet...”

Sam haults his motions and furrows his brows in confusion as Gabriel slips his fingers from his body and starts scrambling up the bed towards the laptop. Sam is treated to an extreme close up of Gabriel’s cock and balls as he reaches over the screen to retrieve something. He strokes himself as he watches, enjoying the erotic image, but halts again, breath hitching in his throat and pulse quickening as Gabriel sits back on his haunches, bringing the object into view.

Gabriel’s holding out a flourescent pink, glittery dildo, displaying it to the camera with both hands, a wide grin on his face, looking for all the world like he’s a teleshopping host, presenting the latest must have buy. Sam gapes at the screen, taking in the sight of the gaudy sex toy. It looks to be about the same size and shape as Sam’s erect cock. It’s a pretty decent approximation, albeit with considerably more bling.

“Gabriel have you... ah...” Sam stutters.

“Brand new,” Gabriel replies with a wide grin. “Was saving it for our date,” eyebrows doing a little dance.

“Do you like it?” Gabriel asks carefully, brows starting to furrow.

Sam snaps his mouth shut, realising he’s gone back to gaping and nods his head. “Can’t wait to see you use it Gabe,” he says, a wicked smile spreading over his face as he adds, “can’t wait to see you fucking yourself with it and imagining it’s my cock.”

Gabriel sends Sam a heated glance and growling low in his throat, he scrambles back into position. He draws both knees up to his chest, using one arm to hold them in place. Sam can see he’s more than ready, hole stretched and slick with lube. The sight is such a turn on that Sam has to stop stroking himself for a moment and talk himself back from the edge.

Gabriel positions the toy at his entrance and pauses, looking to Sam for instruction. It’s a heady feeling, knowing that Sam has the power to hold Gabriel like this, make him wait until he can’t stand it anymore and resorts to begging. But Sam finds he can’t wait either. He wants to see the proxy for his own erection breach the outer ring of muscle and enter his lover’s body.

And so he begins to describe it. How he captures Gabriel’s mouth in a dirty kiss, then pulls back and grasps on to Gabriel’s hip with one hand and his own cock in the other, before starting to nudge at Gabriel’s opening, pressing forward until the head eases it’s way past the ring of muscle.

Breathing heavily, Sam watches as Gabriel follows his instructions, pushing the toy ever so slowly against his opening until the muscles give and the head of the dildo disappears inside his body. His eyes are closed and his mouth has fallen open as he pants through the intrusion. _Christ_, it’s such a beautiful sight. Sam thinks he desperately wants to watch his own cock do the very same thing. _God_ he wants to watch and taste and touch, feel Gabriel’s inner walls surrounding him. But Gabriel’s 200 miles away and they can’t and hell... it’s almost torture. It’s way too much and not nearly enough at the same time. Unbidden, a frustrated, strangled whine escapes his throat.

Gabriel’s eyes fly open and he looks at Sam with concern, brow furrowed again, toy forgotten for the moment, though he doesn’t remove it. “Are you ok?” he asks softly.

Sam lets go of his cock and rubs a hand over his face. “Shit Gabe I’m sorry, I just miss you. I want to do this... for real. Want to... feel you.”

“We will,” Gabriel says carefully, then adds with a filthy smirk. “Gonna ride your cock so hard, you’ll pass out when you come. Then I’m gonna do it all over again... and again.”

Sam laughs, the tension suddenly gone from his body.

“You wanna stop?” Gabriel asks, serious again.

Sam draws in a deep breath, then shakes his head. “No. No I’m ok. I want to do is.” He grabs the bottle from his bedside table and takes a couple of swigs before leveling his eyes at Gabriel and nodding his head again. “I’m pressing in slowly...”

Gabriel quirks his lips and starts to push the toy further into his body. Sam describes how he’s inching in, pushing forwards in short sharp thrusts, giving Gabriel’s body time to adjust, until finally he’s buried to the hilt. He starts to stroke himself again as he watches. By the time Gabriel has the toy fully sheathed inside him, there’s a sheen of sweat covering his skin and he’s moaning loudly, a stream of words falling from his lips. Telling Sam how amazing it feels, how gorgeous he is, interspersed with muttered obscenties and gutteral growls.

“_Christ_... Sam I need to...” Gabriel grits out through clenched teeth.

Sam purses his lips and hesitating for a beat, he finally says, “I’m fucking you hard and fast. I’m... I’m thrusting deep inside you... I... I find your sweet spot and I make sure I hit it every fucking time. I... I grab hold of your cock and I match the rhythm...”

“_Fuck yeah Sam,_” Gabriel yells as he starts fucking the toy in and out of his body with a steady, punishing rhythm, grasping hold of his leaking cock and stroking just as fast. He angles the toy and Sam sees the instant he finds his prostate, his back arching and a stream of profanity falling from his lips. He’s not going to last long. Watching carefully, Sam matches his rhythm, stripping his cock hard and fast, watching as Gabriel fucks himself with the toy, moaning loud enough to hurt Sam’s ears.

Heat pools in his groin, tension building to a crescendo. He comes with a yell that almost drowns out Gabriel’s groaning.

“That was... so fucking... hot Sam,” Gabriel gasps, still moving the toy inside his body.

Sam’s surprised to see he hasn’t quite come yet. He watches with heavy lids, limbs feeling boneless and body relaxed, as Gabriel shifts position. He’s on his knees, closer to the camera. The top half of his body has disappeared off the screen, but Sam has a spectacular view of his dick. And then he’s moving again, fucking himself back on the toy and thrusting up into his own fist, crying out in pleasure as the head of the toy brushes against his prostate. It doesn’t take long. Just a few more thrusts, and he’s watching Gabriel’s cock pulse out his release messily, a final loud howl of pleasure ringing in his ears.

For a few long moments they just stay like that, ragged breaths gradually evening out. At some point, Gabriel has removed the toy, Sam’s been too blissed out to notice when. Finally Gabriel breaks him from his trance as he leans forward and regards Sam with an amused look on his face. Sam quirks a questioning eyebrow.

“Well... will you look... at that,” Gabriel says between giggles, “accidental bukakke... again!”

Sam snorts out a surprised laugh. He knows he should feel a little bad about it, it’s Cas’ laptop for _Christ’s sake_, but he can’t help but let out the amusement that’s bubbling in his chest.

~~~

It’s getting late, Dean will be home soon and Gabriel will presumably be going out in the not too distant future. They’re dressed, laptop cleaned of all evidence, and chatting idly when something occurs to Sam.

“Wait a second, you said Cas and Hannah went out to the museum, but you didn’t say where everyone else was,” Sam’s eyes widen as a horrible thought starts to take hold. “They were out? Right?” When he really got going, Gabriel was loud and the noises he had made were unmistakable.

Gabriel chuckles. “Oh Sammy, don’t you worry. I just told them I was going to have phone sex with you and I tend to get a little... vocal.” He shrugs and smirks at Sam’s horrified expression. “Suddenly they all had places to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, but there will be a long gap, maybe a week and a bit, until the next update. I'm staying with my folks and there won't be much opportunity to write, but I'll certainly try to get a bit done. Hope these last few chapters will help bridge the gap and I'll be back as soon as I can be.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean clear the air, then settle down to watch Gabriel's prank commence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long break. I managed a little writing over the week, but posting was impossible due to internet issues etc. 
> 
> This chapter is otherwise known as the Winchester drool fest. It appears they are both rather smitten.

Dean has been shockingly forgiving and their relationship isn’t strained in the way that Sam feared it would be, but Sam still feels like he needs to make some gesture of apology anyway. After his video call to Gabriel has ended, he grabs some fresh beers and snacks from the shop down the road and orders take out. When Dean arrives home, Sam tells his brother all about the prank that’s due to commence, swearing him to secrecy of course and asks if he’d like to join him in the peanut gallery.

Dean makes a face at first, perhaps remembering all too well the last image he saw of Gabriel, but Sam quickly reassures his brother that he will of course filter out any “mental scar inducing” imagery and Dean agrees that it could be entertaining.

They settle down in front of the tv, beers in hand and tuck into the take out, while casually watching an episode of Firefly that they threw on in the background.

“How’s things with Cas?” Sam asks tentatively. He’s not sure it’s the best thing to ask. His brother hardly enjoys talking about his feelings and inevitably talking about it will bring up what Sam did, but he genuinely wants to know and they might as well clear the air.

Dean swallows down the bite of food he has in his mouth and, cheeks a little pink, he replies, “Ah good. They’re good.” Dean turns away and looks at the screen. Sam doesn’t think he’s going to get any more out of him, but after a long moment he huffs out a breath and starts speaking again. “About what you did...”

Sam opens his mouth to apologise, but Dean must catch the motion with the corner of his eye as he holds up a hand and Sam bites his tongue.

“It was a pretty douchey thing to do,” Dean’s eyes flick over to his, before returning to the screen, “but I know why you did it.” He hesitates and takes a swig of his beer. “Cas and I... Christ.” Dean rubs at the back of his neck.

God this is incredibly awkward. Sam doesn’t know whether he should change the subject or crack a joke, anything to direct Dean away from the obvious torture of bearing his feelings to the open air.

Dean shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Cas is something else... I didn’t know how to deal. Didn’t want to... Screw it up, you know?” His eyes flick over to Sam and Sam nods his head. He gets it. He’s had the same feelings over Gabriel.

Dean’s eyes return to the screen and Sam thinks he’s done, but when he talks again, his voice comes out a little hoarse and Sam notices with amazement, that his brother’s eyes are a little watery. “He’s my best friend Sammy and I couldn’t... I couldn’t lose that.”

Sam swallows, looking away, guilt knawing at his gut. He could have screwed that up. He could have taken that away from his brother... He feels something hit his head and land in his lap, a spring roll. Sam can’t help snorting out a laugh and chucking it back at his brother, missing him narrowly as Dean ducks out of the way.

“Dude enough with emo puppy routine. It’s all good.” Dean smiles widely. “More than good,” he adds with a smirk.

Sam sends Dean a happy smile and nods. They both turn to the screen.

“And you and... Gabriel?” Dean asks a moment later, like he feels obliged to ask, but really doesn’t want to hear any of the details.

“We’re ah... We’re great,” Sam answers, cheeks flushing red as his mind inevitably conjures up an image from their session a few short hours ago, Gabriel with his back arched, mouth hanging open and a flourescent pink dildo up his ass.

Dean regards him with a disturbed look on his face. “Spare me the specifics, gonna need a shit tonne of therapy as it is.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head. And they fall into any easy silence, watching the episode and laughing along at the funny bits, exchanging the odd quote as the familiar scenes play out on the screen.

They’re half way through the episode and Dean is just returning to the couch with two beers, when Sam’s phone vibrates with the first message. Sam flicks it open and pulls up the image. The picture shows all the cousins standing together, a family portrait, presumably taken by Gabriel’s aunt as Gabriel is also in the frame. He’s wearing a smart black button down shirt with embroidered roses across the shoulders and khaki slacks. His hair is looking neatly combed, tucked behind his ears, but he still hasn’t shaved. He’s looking hot, really hot.

“Quit drooling and give over” Dean smirks, gesturing for Sam’s phone, then making a face he adds, “Unless it’s another picture of his pubes...”

Sam winces. Ok, theory confirmed. “It’s ah... safe,” Sam replies handing the device over.

Dean whistles when he looks over the gathered cousins. “Holy crap, that is one attractive family.” Sam just nods because, yeah, his thoughts exactly. Dean fiddles around with his phone and Sam smiles at the goofy grin on his face as he turns the phone around to show a close up of Castiel, looking handsome in a grey suit that really sets off his eyes.

~~~

After a few beers and snacks, Sam thinks they’re having a pretty good evening. The next message that Gabriel sends is a video clip, showing Balthazar’s reaction at the first bar. As the unmistakable celtic intro notes start playing over the jukebox, his smiling face twists into an expression of disgust, hands clamping down over his ears. _Who the hell put this on?_ can just about be heard over the sound system and background chatter. Sam thinks he can hear a faint giggle in the mix that he’s pretty sure is Gabriel. The video cuts out abruptly, presumably because Balthazar has glanced in his direction.

Dean snorts out a laugh when he watches the video. “Got to admit, guy’s got a point. That song makes my ears bleed. Isn’t this cruel and unusual punishment.”

“You’re forgetting this was the guy who sent you a picture of Gabriel’s-”

“Woah Sammy, I thought we agreed never to talk about that again!” Dean shakes his head, like he’d trying to dislodge a horrifying image that’s trying to replay in his mind. “Fair point. The dougebag’s getting eveything he deserves.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sam laughs and they clank bottles together before taking a drink.

In each of the following few bars, Gabriel sends them a picture or a video clip of Balthazar’s reaction and in one hilarious instance, a slow mo capture. After awhile they start to come forwarded from Gadreel or Hannah. Balthazar has definitely caught on and is most likely watching Gabriel like a hawk.

Interspersed with the increasingly scandalized visage of Balthazar, are a collection of images of Gabriel and his cousins enjoying their night. A cute selfie of Gabriel with his arm slung over Hannah’s shoulders, each of them with a Pina Colada cocktail in hand, a heated debate between Gadreel and Luke (apparently hilarious judging by Anna’s face in the background), Castiel looking a little wide eyed and lost in a crowd of revelers, with a pint glass of beer to his lips (Dean had stared at it for a good long while, with a fond look in his eyes), an image forwarded from Hannah of Gabriel talking animatedly to a bemused Anna, hands waving excidedly in the air, dimples showing at the corners of his open mouth (Sam looked at that one fondly for just as long).

About half way through the night, Dean starts exchanging messages with Cas. Sam shoots him a look, but Dean just rolls his eyes and says, “He already figured it out. He thinks it’s hilarious.” He makes a digusted face at his phone when he reads the next message. Shuddering he hands the phone to Sam.

_I do not understand what is so wrong with this song. It has a pleasant melody. Though I am starting to tire of it after hearing it so often. Balthazar’s discomfort is providing much entertainment for all. Perhaps he shall think twice before pulling such a stunt in the future. However I suspect that is unlikely to be the case._

Sam laughs as he reads the overly verbose message.

“It’s not funny Sammy.” Dean regards him with wide eyes. “He just admited he likes a song by Celine Dion. Gonna have to give him an education in real music!”

~~~

It’s approaching midnight when Gabriel sends the message,

_Ready for the Grand Finale?_

Sam and Dean hunch eagerly over Sam’s phone, waiting for a video clip of Hannah’s grand performance, but it appears the cousins are having way too much fun to jump straight into it. There is a rather amusing slow mo of the girl in question, doing a wildy raunchy dance with a wide eyed man, who looks like all his christmases have come at once. Then there’s a few images of Gabriel and some of his cousins doing Jägerbombs.

Sam hurridly types out a message and hits send.

_Eat something and drink lots of water._

After a few minutes Gabriel sends back a picture of a large bowl of fries and a pint of water.

_Since ur dick isn’t here guess this’ll do..._

Dean makes a face when Sam suggests he probably wouldn’t want to read that one.

The next video appears several minutes later. Again it’s not Hannah, but Luke on stage, holding the microphone and eyeing the crowd with a look of disdain on his face.

“Sympathy for the devil,” Dean shouts out a little too close to Sam’s ear. “I’ll bet you anything.”

“Yeah I’m not taking that bet,” Sam says with a smile.

And sure enough, as soon as the opening refrain begins, their suspicions are proved correct. Sam doesn’t know what he expected, perhaps that Luke would growl the song into the microphone and then storm off. But Luke is actually suprisingly good. He has a low melodic voice and he really gets into the performance, almost coming across as charming.

“Dude can actually sing,” Dean echoes his thoughts, looking just as surprised and impressed as Sam is.

When the song ends to a round of applause, Luke just throws an incredibly smug look at the audience and walks off stage. Dean shrugs and goes to grab another beer and refresh their snacks.

Sam turns his attention to the tv and realising the episode they had been half watching is finished, he throws on the next one. The title music is just starting up when Sam’s phone vibrates again. He opens it and frowns when he sees there are no new messages from Gabriel. He flicks back to the main app screen. Huh.

“I just got a message from Cas,” Sam calls back to Dean, as his brother makes his way over to the sofa juggling two bottles of beer, a plate of grilled cheese on toast and a huge pack of popcorn.

Dean raises an eyebrow and dumps his load on the coffee table.

Sam opens the conversation to see that Cas has sent him a video clip and an accompanying message.

_I hope you are having a pleasant evening. I apologise for sending a message to you so late, but I thought you would appreciate the opportunity to see this. Castiel._

When Dean has settled down beside him, Sam holds the phone out again so that they can both see it clearly and hits play. They both laugh as the first thing they see is a close up of Castiel’s lips. _How do you turn the camera around, I do not understand_, Castiel’s gravely voice says to someone off screen. There’s a sigh and then a blur of movement and a hand appears before the phone switches to the forward facing camera, currently showing a picture of Castiel’s feet. Sam glances at his brother and sees a fond smile stretching across his features. The camera swings up abruptly and after a few false starts, zooms in on the stage.

Sam smiles as he sees it’s Gabriel standing there. He has his sleeves rolled up and is fiddling with a black leather cuff Sam hasn’t seen before, lips pursed and foot tapping impatiently as he waits for his chosen song to load. His hair has gotten kinda messier through the night and now it’s looking on the wild and sexy side

“Dude if it’s Lady Gaga I’m calling it a night,” Dean says. Sam makes a face at him and turns back to the screen.

_Why don’t you give us a striptease while we’re waiting?_ A distinctly British sounding voice yells from the audience. A few people groan, a few people wolf whistle and there’s one or two shouts of _strip, strip!_ But they peter out as Gabriel rolls his eyes and flips off the crowd. Finally the music starts and Gabriel steps forward to take hold of the microphone smiling.

“Nice!” Dean exclaims, clearly recognising the opening refrain of ‘All Along the Watchtower’, made famous by guitar legend Jimi Hendrix. “Not if he murders it of course.”

Sam shoots him a bitchface. Dean just shrugs his shoulders and they both turn their attention back to the screen as Gabriel opens his mouth to sing.

_There must be some way out of here... Said the joker to the thief_

Sam’s heart starts to race and his stomach does a little flip flop, because _holy shit_ can Gabriel sing. His voice is heart breakingly beautiful, rich with a slightly rough undertone. And watching him and listening to that incredible talent is doing all sorts of things to Sam.

“Son of bitch!” Dean breaks into his thoughts.

Sam shoots Dean an irritated look and pauses the video. “Dude, I’m trying to listen.”

Dean just ignores him. “You have any idea the midget could sing like that?”

Sam rolls his eyes at the insult, then shakes his head.

“No. Not a clue. He’s... he’s amazing.”

Dean makes a face at him, but then shakes his head. “Gotta admit it, the short stack’s got some serious talent.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, chosing to ignore the second dig at Gabriel’s height, because he’s desperate to hear more. He leans forward and unpauses the video.

He’s utterly mesmerized. Watching Gabriel sing like this, even on the small phone screen with the slightly tinny speaker, it feels like Sam’s falling in love all over again. Gabriel’s heart stoppingly beautiful. The lights are hitting him just right, emphasising the gold in his hair and when he turns his head to look over the audience, the stage lights catch his eyes and they illuminate like candle light seen through a glass of whiskey.

_None were level on the mind... Nobody up at his word_

When the first verse gives way to a guitar solo, Gabriel quirks his lips and steps back from the microphone. A startled laugh escapes Sam’s lips as Gabriel starts performing an impressively complicated air guitar solo. The audience react with whoops and cheers, making Gabriel’s grin all the wider. Dean just leans forward and squints at the screen until Sam has to elbow him out of the way.

Gabriel steps back up to the microphone and launches into the second verse, his lips still twitching a little at the corners.

_No reason to get excited... The thief he kindly spoke... There are many here among us... Who feel that life is but a joke_

Sam lets Gabriel’s voice flow over him, heart thumping in his chest, heat flowing through his veins. It’s the most incredible aphrodisiac.

_So let us stop talkin' falsely now... The hour's getting late_

Gabriel is stepping back again, launching into an air guitar performance that’s even more passionate than the last, hair falling forwards over his face as he looks down at the complicated motions his hands are making, then throwing his head back to expose the long line of his neck, eyes closed as he hits the phantom high notes.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean exclaims again.

Sam quirks a questioning eyebrow at him, because much as he’s enjoying the show Gabriel is putting on, his air guitar is hardly the most impressive thing about it.

Dean leans forward and pauses the video and then turns to Sam with a slightly manically excited look on his face. “Dude, he can play.”

“Ah yeah, his air guitar’s awesome,” Sam replies with an edge of sarcasm, because seriously he doesn’t get what Dean’s so excited about and he really wants to get back to watching the video.

Dean rolls his eyes. “I mean he can really play. Play, play.”

“How do you figure that,” Sam asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow at his brother.

“Look, I’ve watched those live performances a dozen times over. That,” he points to the paused image of Gabriel, fingers poised over an imaginary fretboard, “that’s how you play that riff. I’ll bet you a week of washing up that he can play this song.”

“Huh,” Sam says, eyes turning back to the screen, sweeping over the frozen image. It’s just possible that his brother is right and if he is... Sam bites his lip, head swimming with images of Gabriel playing live on stage, eyes fixed on Sam, performing to an audience, but really just playing for him.

Dean clears his throat, breaking Sam from his thoughts, a smirk playing about his lips. “Are you going to sit around all day fantasising about your hot guitarist boyfriend or are we actually going to watch this?”

Sam rolls his eyes, but leans forward to hit play again. The guitar solo ends and Gabriel steps up to the mic again, grabbing hold of it in both hands, belting out the first line of the last verse with passion.

_All along the watchtower... Princes kept the view_

Sam’s heart skips a beat, Gabriel’s voice sending shivers down his spine. If this is how he’s reacting to seeing Gabriel on a tiny phone screen, then what would it be like to see him live? Sam really hopes he gets the chance to find out. At the very least, he’s going to suggest a date at a karaoke bar when Gabriel returns.

All too soon the song ends and the audience explodes into uproarious applause. Gabriel beams as he soaks up the well deserved attention. When the applause starts to die down, Gabriel lifts his hands beside his head and makes a clapping motion, causing the audience to applaud with renewed vigor, and Sam to snort out a laugh. Of course Gabriel’s going to milk it. He takes a theatrical bow and hops off stage, heading through the crowd back towards his family with a bounce in his step and giving a few hi-fives on the way. The video cuts out on Gabriel ignoring Hannah’s request for a high five and lifting her off the ground in a tight hug instead.

“Dude that was awesome,” Dean says with a wide smile.

Sam is completely lost for words, so he just nods his head instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from "All Along the Watchtower", written by Bob Dylan and famously performed by Jimi Hendrix.
> 
> Yeah so I may have gotten a teensy bit of Richard in my Gabriel. I regret nothing. Why this song? Well, it's one of my all time favorites and after contemplating a few songs, I thought it would be both impress Dean and showcase Gabriel's voice rather well. 
> 
> In terms of writing, I'm approaching the grande finale, which will be followed by a long epilogue (porny) and a short one (promising future porn). There will be angst, humor and sexy times I hope. Fingers crossed I'll be able to write a lot more now I'm back home.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar really, really hates that song.

Gabriel’s next message doesn’t arrive until a good 20 minutes later. They’ve just finished watching ‘Jaynestown’ and are about to queue up ‘Out of Gas’ when Sam’s phone vibrates.

_Drum roll please..._

They both sit with baited breath as the video, forwarded from Gadreel, starts to load. As soon as the play symbol appears, Sam leans forward and starts the video. The clip shows Hannah first, standing – well maybe swaying is a better word for it – at the microphone, waiting for her song to load. The camera then pans over to where Gabriel is standing, hip propped against the bar with a cocktail in hand, looking up at the stage, lips twitching at the corners. The camera pauses for a moment and then pans over a few of the cousins and other patrons to where Balthazar is standing, chatting to Anna and Cas.

The camera zooms in as the opening notes filter through the karaoke sound system. The smile instantly drops from Balthazar’s face, features twisting into a horrified moue. He whips his head around to presumably glare at Hannah (Gadreel zooms out to bring the stage into frame), hands raised in the air in a ‘what the hell’ gesture, but Hannah expertly avoids eye contact and steps up to the microphone, opens her mouth, and starts to sing. Perhaps it’s the drunkeness, perhaps it’s deliberate, but it would certainly appear that Hannah has most definitely _not_ inhereted the musical talents that at least two of her cousins have.

_Every night in my dreams... I see you, I feel you..._

As she launches into the first verse with an enormous amount of passion and an almost impressive ability to miss _all_ of the notes, Balthazar and Anna cover their ears. Cas attempts to school his features for a short time, likely keen not to offend, but after a particularly screechy high note, he covers his ears too.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean groans from beside him. “Turn the goddamn sound down.”

Sam doesn’t have to be told twice, he reaches forward and turns the volume down until it’s barely audible, both of them sighing in relief as the assault on their ear drums is somewhat eased.

The camera pans from the group of cousins surrounding Balthazar, to Gabriel, who has placed his cocktail on the bar and is now doubled over with laughter. Some muffled shouting can be heard over the speaker. Sam runs the video back a few seconds, gingerly increases the volume, ignoring Dean’s protests, and presses play again. They both cringe a little when Hannah hits the chorus, somehow managing to slide even further out of tune.

_Near, far, wherever you are... I believe that the heart does go onnnnnnnn...._

Barely audible over the appalling sound, they can just about make out the words, the accent unmistakably Balthazar’s.

_You bloody wanker... fooling nobody... knew it was you all along..._

Balthazar comes striding into frame and walks right up to Gabriel, who just raises his eyebrows

_... don’t know what... talking about... laughing at..._

Gabriel waves a hand at the stage

_She’s so drunk!_

_...little twerp... going to..._

Sam sucks in a breath as Balthazar actually grabs hold of the front of Gabriel’s shirt and starts to pull him up on his toes. Balthazar isn’t much taller than Gabriel, but it’s enough of an advantage. The camera wavers a little, as if Gadreel’s not sure if he should intervene or not, but several other family members have made a beeline for the confrontation.

_Balthazar... do you think... doing?_

That sounds like Castiel. And sure enough, he and Luke make their way through the crowd a moment later. All the while, Gabriel just regards Balthazar with a sardonically raised eyebrow and a challenging smirk on his face.

Hannah has finally spotted the commotion and her voice trails off. People in the audience start to look around, wondering who their savior is. Sam can make out what looks like a security guard, eyeing the situation, ready to move if things start to escalate. _Lazy ass_, Sam thinks, because _now_ would be the time to intervene. _Before_ the first punch is thrown.

Without Hannah’s singing, they can now hear most of what is being said.

_Thing about my brother Balthazar, Gabe’s always gotta be the class clown_, Luke drawls, voice dripping with disdain.

_And you’re an assclown_, Gabriel retorts, turning his head as much as he can to glare at his brother.

Luke just laughs mockingly and walks off screen, leaving them to it.

_Balthazar_, Cas begins in a dangerous tone of voice, head tilted to the side, blue eyes flashing a warning.

Balthazar just chuckles and lets go of Gabriel’s shirt, stepping backwards, hands raised in the air.

_Oh come on! I was just messing with him. No need to go all attack dog Cassie, honestly._ Balthazar steps up to the bar and signals the bar tender. _Garçon, garçon! A round of Jägerbombs if you please._

The video cuts out as the bartender starts lining up the drinks. Just before the footage ends, Balthazar’s gaze flicks over to Gabriel, a sly smile on his lips. Gabriel doesn’t notice, too caught up in a conversation with Cas.

“He’s going to retaliate,” Sam says, frowning at the screen.

“Ya think?” Dean says sarcastically. “Got to hand it to Gabriel, that was well played. His face!” Dean chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’d better warn him,” Sam says and quickly types out a message to Gabriel.

Gabriel’s reply appears several minutes later, when Sam has finished his evening ablutions and is finally climbing into bed.

_Ya think?_

Sam laughs. Gabriel and his brother are far more alike than either would care to admit.

_Just... watch your back. That got a bit... intense._

_Pfft don’t you worry my Samilicious, I got it covered. Besides, got my very own guard dog. On a scale of 1 to blowing his load, just how turned on was Dean-o when Cassie went all avenging Angel?_

Sam smiles and shakes his head. Yeah come to think of it, his brother had seemed to take special interest in that part. Sam had put it down to his not so secret love of overblown tv dramas, but...

_I **really** don’t want to answer that question (off the scale). Just take care Gabe. I Love you._

_And drink some more goddamn water or you’ll be praying to the Oh God all day... again._

_You’re so cute when you get all maternal... ok no that was less creepy in my head... You may be right about the water... Love you too Sam. Nite_

~~~

Thanksgiving is a quiet affair for Sam and Dean. After their mother died, things had never been the same. Their dad was so lost in his rage and despair, and an obsessive need to find the hit and run driver who had cut her life short, that such small concerns as family holidays, were ignored or forgotten. Perhaps due to a disconnect with the world around him, perhaps because he couldn’t bear to carry on with such things without her.

When Dad too was lost to them, neither of them had felt the compulsion to make up for lost time, to make traditions of their own, beyond the most basic of nods to the celebration. For example... pie, Dean was definitely down for lots and lots of pie.

This year was a little unsual for the both of them. For the first time in their lives, they had received invites to celebrate with those they were starting to call close friends. Dean’s gruff, but caring boss, had invited the two of them to celebrate with he and his wife. The invite had startled Dean so much that he’d declined almost on reflex, only to regret it when he remembered just how amazing Karen’s pecan pie was. Karen of course didn’t let a little word like no stop her from ‘feeding you up’ and Dean arrived home yesterday, grinning over a carefully wrapped, pie shaped bundle, which he had tucked safely away in the fridge before he would listen to Sam’s plans for the evening.

Ellen had extended an invite to Sam and Dean also. Sam had been very tempted to accept, but the last thing he wanted was to inconvenience anybody, to intrude upon anyone else’s family traditions, and so he had regretfully declined. Ellen had given him hard stare, which Sam thought was her way of telling him he was being an idiot, but it was all a little too much, a little too soon. The last few months have been a whirlwind of change, of emotion. It’s all a been a bit overwhelming. Definitely in a positive way, but overwhelming nevertheless.

And so they settle into their own relaxed routine for the day. A lazy morning, sleeping in (even later than usual due to all the excitement of last night) and then slowly preparing a few simple trimmings to go along with the roast turkey slices Sam bought from the local deli. A whole bird would be overkill for the two of them, even with Dean’s dustbin appetite.

Dean cuts the vegetables, while Sam makes the salad. Dean sings along to Metallica’s Black Album, while Sam’s mind drifts over the revelations of last night. He can’t get the image of Gabriel on stage out of his mind and he finds he really doesn’t want to. Unable to help himself, he’s already replayed the video a couple of times this morning. Still just as caught up in the sound of Gabriel’s incredible voice, still struck with how beautiful he looks up there, lit from above and from within, as he sings with so much heartfelt passion and joy.

Gabriel’s messages are a little more sporadic today than they usually are. He’s caught up in family time, as it should be. Sam feels a little twinge of sadness that he turned down Gabriel’s offer. He could be there with him right now, preparing salad for Gabriel’s extended and somewhat oddball family, listening to Gabriel chatter away, brushing arms with eachother as they set about their individual tasks.

Sam sighs and lets himself think back on the ubiquitous morning selfie. Gabriel had somehow miraculously avoided another hangover and sent him an image that was definitely of the erotic variety. Fresh and dripping wet from the shower, Gabriel was pictured in the reflection from the full length bathroom mirror, the condensation strategically wiped away to reveal his body down to his belly button. A heart shape drawn in the condensation around his groin, a slightly comical, exaggerated ‘come hither’ expression on his face. The condensation providing only minimal censoring to his naked form. Gabriel’s morning selfies are definitely the way to start a day.

~~~

They enjoy their simple lunch at the breakfast counter, with a couple of beers and classic rock to keep them company. Karen’s pie is just as amazing as Dean had said it would be and Sam finds himself being uncharacteristically greedy in accepting a second slice. Gabriel sends a couple of pictures of the family, preparing food together and then sat down at the table together. Sam absolutely doesn’t think about sitting next to Gabriel at that table, about Gabriel leaning into his space a little as he relays some amusing anecdote, leg brushing against his all the while.

After washing up and clearing things away, Sam suggests a stroll to work off the excess food. Dean looks at him like he just suggested they climb mount Everest in their pyjamas, so Sam goes it alone.

The air is chill, but bracing rather than biting, and he finds the walk clears his head as well as stretching out his muscles. He walks into town, to the small park, strolls slowly around the large pond, nodding to the occasional dog walker, thoughts drifting. Pleasant thoughts of Gabriel’s smile, of Charlie’s witty banter, of Ellen’s support in everything he’s been through since restarting his education... They’ve only been here a few short months and yet it feels more like home than anywhere they’ve ever been. They’re forging friendships, relationships that already seem set to last. Maybe even family. Sam smiles, warmth spreading through his body at the thought, chasing away the late November chill.

Sam has just started to head for home when his phone rings. He smiles widely when he sees it’s Gabriel.

“Do you have any idea how many words there are in the British lexicon for wanker?” Sam laughs as Gabriel launches straight into his story without any exchange of pleasantries.

“I’m going to guess, rather a lot... So the car thing went... is ‘well’ the right word for it?” Sam asks, a smile still stretched across his features.

“Oh it went down about as well as a supposedly unsinkable ship playing tag with a giant iceberg,” Gabriel chuckles. “No video evidence I’m afraid. He chucked my phone out of the window, then chucked moi out of the door. Apparently stopping the car first would have been-”

“He threw you out of a moving vehicle?!” Sam interupts, because _holy shit_. “Are you ok?!”

Gabriel makes a non commital noise over the phone. “No need to worry Sambear. I’m still in one delicious piece. It was a soft landing and we were practically going walking pace. It’s no biggie. Few cuts and bruises. Face just as pretty as ever. Cas lost his shit though, Lucy too come to think of it.”

Sam sighs and rubs his free hand over his face. “Jesus Gabe, that’s not ok. Are you sure you’re...?” Not permanently damaged, not adopted? Sam isn’t entirely sure where he’s going with that sentence. He knew Gabriel’s family was off the wall crazy, but this is something else entirely.

“Hells I’ve had so much worse Sam, it’s nothing. Definitely worth it.”

Sam notes with a small measure of relief, that Gabriel sounds a little too amused to be too badly hurt.

“So is this thing over now then? Is that you even?” he asks tentatively, already knowing what the answer will be.

Gabriel laughs into the phone. “Sammy please, that was just reflexes. He reeeeeally hates that song. No, I expect he’s still planning something.”

Sam cringes. “Gabe... He wouldn’t actually... He wouldn’t do something that would really hurt you... I mean besides throwing you out of goddamn moving car.”

“Hmm I’m thinking that’s a no, not since Lucy threatened to turn him into fingerpaint if he hurt me ever again. Balthy’s a sneaky S.O.B., but he’s not stupid.”

Sam sighs. Well at least both Cas and Luke are looking out for Gabriel now. Luke’s a little too terrifying to not take seriously. And he’s pretty sure Hannah and Gadreel are watching his back too. They’re leaving on Sunday, so Gabriel just has two more full days to get through. What’s the worst that could happen? Sam really wishes his mind would stop supplying him with all the most hideous answers to that question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so Balthazar got a little more violent than I was expecting, apologies. I think this version of him just doesn't know when to stop, maybe something in his past, who knows. Fear not, this is the worst he does and Gabriel is indeed ok.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar retaliates. Sam finds the results aren't quite what he was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little mildly porny chapter for you. Bit of fluff in the mix.

The University is closed until exam week begins on Monday, which is also the first day of the Exhibition and the private viewing for friends, family and a few VIPs involved with the University. Sam is due to help Ellen with set up at the weekend, so he takes the opportunity to work on some development work from home on Friday. He takes out a selection of past drawings of Gabriel and the inspirational images he had noted down and printed out.

Surrounded by a few visual cues, he begins sketching some compositional ideas. Nothing’s quite working, but it feels good to get started. After awhile he switches to looking at the wings, pulling up some beautiful images of bird wings he finds on the internet. He’ll have to do his own investigative work, but this is a good place to begin. Between these and the Angel paintings, he can start to form his own ideas on how he’d like the wings to look, before heading out to capture some reference material using his old camera and sketchbook. He makes a note to visit the zoology department and sketch some of the specimens there, perhaps see if there’s a larger collection he can visit elsewhere.

He’s completely immersed in his work when his phone vibrates. Sam’s tempted to ignore it, but he could do with a break anyway. He quickly grabs a coffee before settling on his bed to open Gabriel’s message... and very nearly drops it in his lap. Sam takes in a deep breath. _Jesus Christ_. He places his coffee carefully on the nightstand before looking down at the screen again. A quick glance at the caption quickly confirms his suspicions. So this is Balthazar’s retaliation. Sam’s got to admit it, it’s a good one. But hell if Gabriel hasn’t taken it in his stride in the best possible way. Sam smiles down at the image of his crazy, quirky, screwball boyfriend, feeling his heart skip a beat in his chest. The picture is hilarious and it’s adorable and it’s most definitely... weirdly sexy.

According to the accompanying message, the family had gone swimming that morning at a nearby leisure centre. Afterwards, Gabriel had returned to his locker, only to find that it no longer contained his own clothes. No, Gabriel’s clothes had been replaced with something a little more feminine, with a lot less coverage. Instead of throwing a fit, what had Gabriel done? He had pulled on the clothes, adding a few finishing touches of his own, and proceeded to walk around San Fransisco like that all afternoon.

Of course he had. Sam tries to imagine it and finds he can all too well. Gabriel striding along with his usual confident swagger, dressed in a red and white cheerleader outfit that’s about two sizes too small for him, flashing his hairy legs and a thin strip of slightly squishy belly. Sporting an almost beard and hair tied into cute little springy bunches just behind his ears, a red bow barette completing the look. In the picture he also has a bottle of beer and almost the exact same expression as the morning selfie he sent Sam yesterday. Both ridiculous and arousing at the same time.

Blushing a little at the thought, Sam really has to wonder if he’s going commando as he usually does. That skirt looks like it would lift at the slightest gust, so Sam suspects not... He doesn’t have to think on the matter for too long as Gabriel’s ability to mind read apparently isn’t hampered by distance at all.

_I know what you’re thinking. Lacy red silk panties is the answer._

Sam swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to tell his suddenly very interested dick that Gabriel is indeed still over 200 miles away and _Christ_, but Sunday night can’t come soon enough. Then Gabriel sends another message and he knows he’s fighting a losing battle with his own libido.

_I’ll send you a pic when we get home. You’ll love it. Pubes making a desperate bid for freedom._

Sam checks his watch, and realising Dean won’t be home for another hour at least, he gives in to the inevitable, stripping off his jeans and boxers and eyes fixed on the image of Gabriel, he strips his cock hard and fast. Taking in the way the tight material clings to Gabriel’s chest, pectoral muscles and erect nipples so beautifully defined, strong biceps emphasised, that little flash of belly... Sam wants to kiss the soft pale skin there, all the while reaching his hands under the skirt and... No one hand... the other’s pulling that goddamn adorable bunch and... and... he comes shocking quickly.

The tension has been building in his belly for days now and it’s an enormous relief to blow off a little of that steam. Maybe he won’t jump Gabriel as soon as he sees him... Yeah no, he can’t even lie to himself about that. The only saving grace, is that he’s pretty sure Gabriel’s going to be in exactly the same state. And that he’s returning the night before the exhibition. With any luck, they can get it out of their system beforehand, and not turn his contribution to the exhibition into a live installation of dubious artistic merit.

~~~

True to his word, Gabriel sends him the promised image a couple of hours later. Sam bites his lip and stares at the picture. Gabriel apparently really brings out the kinky side of him. He never would have considered himself into cross dressing, but there’s definitely something arousing about the overtly masculine, blended with something a little more feminine, Gabriel’s half hard cock, barely covered by the skimpy, sheer material. And Gabriel really wasn’t kidding about the pubic hair. The panties are a little too small and riding low on his hips, dark curls clearly visible, both through the material and sticking out of the top. Sam is seriously considering jacking off for a second time in so many hours, when his phone rings.

Sam knows he’s lost his shit when the first words out of his mouth are, “Are you still wearing it?”

~~~

The only sound on the other end of the phone is Gabriel’s heavy breaths. He turned the shower off a few moments ago. Sam really has his doubts that the noise was loud enough to block anything or convince anyone that they were doing anything but the obvious. In the blissful aftermath, he finds he doesn’t really care.

“Soooo... it’s definitely a uniform thing... good to know,” Gabriel pants out between ragged breaths.

“I think it might just be a... you thing,” Sam snorts, feeling relaxed enough to be utterly open and honest about it.

“Sam I...” is all Gabriel manages to say, voice catching, words eluding him in a way they almost never do. Sam gets the message anyway.

“Any chance you can... you know... keep it?” Sam asks tentatively.

Gabriel chuckles. “I’m pretty sure Anna wouldn’t want it back now... And if she insists, I’ll just give her a little run down of our latest sexcapade”

Sam laughs and shakes his head.

A comfortable silence falls between them. Sam’s almost reluctant to break it, but he has to ask.

“And this thing you’ve got going with Balthazar...”

“You make it sound like we’re having a torrid affair... Not an image I want in my head. Ever” Gabriel makes a noise like he’s sucking air in between his teeth. “He has officially bowed to my superior trickster skills and declared me victor.”

Sam lets out a relieved breath. “And you’re not going to... get your own back for the... costume.”

“Why in the hells would I?” Gabriel drawls, lowering his voice to a seductive purr as he adds, “Especially now I know how hot it gets you, Sam.”

There’s little point in arguing, because they’ve gone well past the point of any plausible deniability. He wishes he could see Gabriel now, flushed and disheveled, lying sprawled across the bathroom floor, skirt raised and no doubt covered in come, silk panties still twisted around his ankles...

The mental image is certainly erotic and his dick twitches a little at the thought. But beyond that desire, Sam feels a desire to strip off Gabriel’s clothes and carry him into the shower stall, and just gently clean off the sticky mess. Just take care of him. Wash his body with slow and careful motions. Pressing kisses into the soft, clean skin. And afterwards, wrapping them both in a warm fluffy towel...

“Hello? Earth to Sam,” Gabriel’s amused voice startles him from his daze.

“Sorry,” Sam says sheepishly. “I was just...”

“Just having elaborate erotic fantasies about me?” Sam can hear the smirk in the cadence of his voice. “Add them to the fucket list Sammy.” Gabriel sighs and his voice softens. “I miss you Sam.”

“I miss you too,” Sam closes his eyes and feels the truth of those words a little too keenly.

After a beat Gabriel makes a sort of strangled whine at the back of his throat. “I need you to fuck me!” He almost shouts into the phone, startling Sam out of his post orgasmic haze. “I need to feel your hands all over me and your dick in my ass... I need you to kiss me until I can’t breathe anymore... I need you to hold me... I need you... I need you...” Gabriel trails off, voice going from ragged and raw to barely a whisper.

Sam wants to tell Gabriel he feels the same way, that every day apart has been torture, that he wants to hold on tight and never let go, but the words just won’t form coherent sentences in his head. So instead he finds himself uttering the only words he can.

“I know.”

Gabriel barks out a laugh that’s loud enough to hurt Sam’s eardrums, but Sam finds himself smiling anyway. “Hells, I thought I was the rakishly handsome rogue in this saga. Turns out I need to look out my very best gold bikini. Really sets off my eyes.”

A decidedly roguish smile spreads across Sam’s features as he replies,

“Fucket list.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I may have found a little inspiration for Balthazar's prank amoungst the many entertaining and delicious Supernatural related pins on Pinterest, though I added a few tweaks of my own. Apologies for the fade to black. Since they'd already done the video chat sex, I felt I'd be repeating myself too much. Never fear, the cheerleader outfit will be making another appearance, though I won't be fitting it into this fic, so it's likely to be in the sequel which I very much hope to write. Writing wise, I'm getting along much better now I'm back home. I'm not sure exactly how many more chapters there will be. The exhibition will possibly span a couple. We shall see. Definitely getting there though!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the exhibition fast approaching, Sam is busy helping Ellen set everything up. The nerves are settling in, but thoughts of Gabriel's return provide a useful distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning: Panic attack*

The weekend is going to be a busy one. Sam arrives at the art school exhibition hall early on Saturday morning and doesn’t leave until the skies have darkened and his stomach is growling from lack of sustenance. All day, students have been flitting in and out, dropping off work and Sam has been busily logging the artwork and feeding the information into a fairly basic spreadsheet, while Ellen is helping iron out any framing and wiring issues.

A few students have a few wobbles. Sam can most definitely relate. When he lets himself think about his own work, he feels his pulse rate quicken and nausea settle in the pit of his belly. He can see anxiety knaw at some students especially keenly and he does his best to reassure. Focusing on the concerns of others provides a useful distraction from his own fears, fears that threaten to overwhelm him during the quieter moments.

Zachariah makes an appearance near midday and feeling like a coward, Sam finds an excuse to make himself scarce. He and Ellen will hang the exhibition tomorrow, so all works, including Sam’s highly controversial pieces, have been safely stowed away. Sam knows there’s no way that Zachariah could know about them, and yet he finds he really can’t face the man today. Can’t stand his air of superiority or the looks of utter contempt he’s thrown Sam’s way since Gabriel kissed him. Despite being run off her feet, Ellen nods at his request for a break and gives his forearm a reassuring squeeze before he walks away.

He can’t avoid Zachariah forever. Soon enough he’ll be faced with the full brunt of the man’s prejudice, of that he has no doubt, but he’ll be ready for it, or as ready as he can be. At least he won’t be alone. Gabriel will be there by his side, giving him the strength he needs to face down the whole world.

~~~

After feeding himself and washing away the day, Sam collapses in bed early. He scrolls through the few messages Gabriel sent him throughout the day: a few cute selfies around the city and another portrait of the whole family, out for one last lunch together. Now that Gabriel and Balthazar’s prank war has blown over, the two appear to be at ease with each other. Balthazar is at Gabriel’s side with an arm across his shoulders and both are grinning into the camera. The rest of the family look just as happy. Even Luke, who has lost his usual glower. His smile doesn’t appear quite as genuine as everyone else’s, but the self satisfied smirk is definitely an improvement.

Sam wonders how he would fit in with Gabriel’s family. He’s pretty sure he’d get on well with Hannah and Gadreel. Anna, he knows little about, except that she’s Balthazar’s younger sister and helped him with the final prank. For that at least, he should thank her. Balthazar would definitely be the most challenging. Gabriel may be in a forgiving mood, but Sam’s still pretty pissed that Balthazar had gone as far as causing physical harm. Gabriel may only have a few cuts and bruises, but it could have so easily been much much worse. The thought of anyone causing serious harm to Gabriel makes Sam’s blood boil. He could weather it though, for Gabriel’s sake. He could put up with the man and be there for Gabriel. God knows Gabriel can fend for himself, but it would definitely put Sam at more ease, knowing he can back him up if needed.

Next year, Sam thinks with a smile. Provided Gabriel still wants him to be there.

Sam shoots off a good night message and settles down to sleep. He’s expecting to toss and turn all night, worries spinning around his mind, but exhaustion quickly takes over and it’s not long before he finds himself drifting off, golden eyes and a dimpled smile, easing his way down into a peaceful slumber.

~~~

Sam awakens with a warm feeling in his chest. Gabriel is due to return today and they’ve already arranged for Sam to spend the night at his tiny, but decidedly brother free apartment. It’s a new step in their relationship, but one they’ve both been ready to undertake for some time now. Sam isn’t nervous... well maybe a little nervous about taking the other step they haven’t quite discussed, but they both know is on the cards... But the nerves are far outweighed by the desire to, yes take that step, but also the overwhelming need to be close to Gabriel. To go to sleep in each other’s arms and wake up that same way. Sam can’t wait to see Gabriel’s adorably sleepy morning face in the flesh, instead of as pixels on a cell screen. He wants to burrow down in the covers beside him, curl his body around him and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Brush sleep mussed hair from his forehead and press a kiss there too.

Sam knows he’s going to be nervous as hell tomorrow, but waking up with Gabriel, getting ready together and stepping into that hall together... Sam couldn’t wish for a better way to face his fears.

~~~

Sam is already walking towards campus when Gabriel’s ubiquitous morning selfie arrives: a rather arousing image of his own ass, clad in nothing but those bright red satin boxers.

_I thought of a really clever quip, but my ass says it all. You. Me. My ass. Your dick. Kapisch?_

A startled laugh escapes Sam’s lips when he reads the caption. A few passers by give him strange looks before continuing on their way. Sam guesses it’s good to know they’re on the same page. Trust Gabriel to give subtlety a wide berth.

Sam’s stomach clenches a little in anticipation. He guesses he’s bound to be a little nervous. Before Gabriel, his encounters with men had been limited to a few experimental kisses, hand jobs and one seriously awkward blow job. His experience with the same sex is limited at best. He knows the mechanics. He’s read enough fan fiction to get the jist, and he has of course backed all that up with a fair bit of research of his own. While not exactly as sexy, he’s keen to make sure he has a realistic view of what to expect. And Gabriel has of course incidentally given him some pretty extensive lessons on how to open him up in the most pleasureable way. He’s sure Gabriel can guide him through the rest.

~~~

Sam and Ellen work hard through the morning. They lay out everyone’s work and make a start on the difficult task of arranging the exhibition in a coherent and visually arresting manner. That takes a surprising amount of arranging and rearranging. Sam would never have asked it of her, but Ellen has clearly taken it upon herself to ensure that Zachariah is well separated from Sam. He notes also, that throughout the shifting, Ellen has always left Charlie’s work beside his. Sam knows it has more to do with moral support than anything else and he can’t help but feel appreciative of it.

Of course Gabriel demands input, sending Sam unhelpful messages on his way to the airport.

_Make sure your pictures are opposite the door._

_Can’t talk now Gabe, busy. And I can’t favor my own work. It’s not exactly the done thing._

_Pfft Zachy would do it and you know it. Besides, I want my beautiful come face to be the first thing people see when they walk in the door._

Sam makes a face at his phone and pockets it, returning to the work at hand. Ellen just shoots him a knowing look, a small smirk playing about her lips, as she shakes her head.

~~~

It’s almost gone noon when Sam and Ellen step back from their work, finally satisfied with the arrangements. The actual hanging will be a bit more labor intensive and so they decide to break for lunch before progressing with the work.

Sam is just retrieving his packed lunch, when his cell rings. He frowns, Gabriel should be on his flight and Dean rarely calls him unless it’s an emergency. Placing his lunch back down, he slips the phone from his back pocket. Gabriel. Fuck.

“Fucking useless piece of shit airline. Cancelled our goddamn flight.” Sam closes his eyes and tries to tell himself to breathe as Gabriel’s irate voice blares out of the speaker. “...honestly faster to sprout wings and fly. Christ Sam. Fuck. Those sorry sons of bitches...” 

Sam is vaguely aware of Gabriel’s ongoing tirade, but his chest feels too tight and he can’t breathe. Christ he really can’t breathe. He wonders for a panicked moment if he’s having a heart attack, but he’s felt this way before. Not for a long time. Not since before he and Gabriel... Christ he thought he was better. He thought he’d seen the last of this.

“Sam? Sam?” Gabriel’s voice suddenly sounds panicked intead of angry.

But it’s so far away. Sam’s vision is swimming, his ears are ringing. The world is receeding. _No_. He can’t do this again. He’s vaguely aware of Ellen taking the phone from his hand and talking into it in a low voice (he can’t make out Gabriel’s replies, but his voice is shrill, frightened). Then Ellen’s arms are around him, calming him. She mutters words to him. For a good long while he can’t understand what she’s saying, but the cadence of her voice is reassuring and after what feels like an age, he finally finds himself returning.

“Sorry,” he starts, then clears his throat as his voice comes out sounding ragged and raw. “I... I haven’t... that hasn’t happened in awhile.” 

He feels his cheeks heat, he feels ashamed. Of showing this weekness, of losing his shit so completely. It’s only a cancelled flight for christ sake... Except it isn’t... Sam realises that the only thing that was holding back the panic, was the thought of Gabriel by his side. The thought he wouldn’t have to face this alone. But now. Now he might have to. He feels the panic start to rise in his chest again and closes his eyes. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out.

Ellen's voice is calm and measured when she starts to speak. “Sam, you do not have to do this alone. I will be there for you. Charlie will be there for you. But that don’t mean have to go through with this. You say the word and we’ll pull the plug, only display the work you’re comfortable with.”

Sam’s breath hitches and he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Ellen is giving him an out. It would be so easy to take it. And yet. He stills, breathes in and out. Tries to find his center. As he feels his breaths finally even out, he opens his eyes, rubbing at them with the heel of one hand. He knows his voice will waver, but he has to say it anyway. Maybe if he says it he’ll believe it.

“No... I can... I can do it,” He takes in another deep breath and finally manages to meet her eyes.

And in them he sees, not the pity he feared would be there, but an understanding. He gives her a small smile that he hopes will reassure her and accepts her hand to help him off the floor. Shit Gabriel. He looks around for his phone. Ellen gently presses it into his hand and after making sure he’s not going to have another breakdown, at least for the moment, she squeezes his forearm again and gives him a little space.

Gabriel picks up after the first ring.

“Gabe...” Sam’s breath hitches, words elude him. What can he say? Gabriel should run a mile and Sam’s more than a little scared he will.

“Sam,” Gabriel breathes into the phone. He pauses a moment and Sam’s heart starts to thud painfully against his ribcage. “Hey Samshine. Thought I’d lost you there.”

“I’m sorry I...” _lost my shit, am a complete and utter screw up._ How exactly can Sam conclude that sentence.

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for kiddo. You hear me?” Relief floods through Sam’s body at Gabriel’s words. “Listen Sam...” Gabriel takes in a breath and lets it out slowly. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt...” Gabriel’s voice trails off and they just listen to the sound of each other’s breaths.

Sam’s mind is spinning. Gabriel understands... He’s been there... Sam knows his life hasn’t all been sunshine and lollipops. Gabriel’s alluded to that on a couple of occasions, never going into details, always skirting around the issues, deflecting with a joke or an abrupt change in conversation. But he’s always seemed so strong, so robust, like he could take anything in his stride... Well not everything... There _is_ a vulnerability there, under the quick wit and sarcasm. Sam’s seen it, there one moment then gone the next. Gabriel hides it well most of the time, Sam wonders if anyone even knows it’s there except him, maybe Cas, maybe Ellen.

“Any old how,” Gabriel’s voice breaks into Sam’s reverie. The moment has passed, the tone of his voice decidedly more upbeat. “Cassie’s got us sorted. You know how intimidating he can be, without the whole almost getting arrested vibe. Luke and I... not so much in our skill set.” Gabriel gives a dramatic pause and Sam dutifully sucks in a breath in anticipation. “We’re flying out this very evening! Overnighting in a motel. Assuming no pesky little fratricide related issues crop up, it’s a short roadtrip and we’re back. Cassie thinks we can make it just in the nick of time. Easy peasy like a breeze-y.”

Sam lets the air out of his lungs in one long breath. It’s entirely possible that Gabriel won’t make it in time, but he’s sure as hell going to try. And that, that means the world to Sam. Gabriel knows how important this is, knows how difficult it’s going to be and he wants to be there. Will do whatever he can to be there for Sam.

“Thanks Gabe, I-” Sam swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “Just... thanks. Can you... can you thank Cas for me too?”

“Sure thing kiddo.” Gabriel’s voice turns serious again. “You got this, Sam. You’re stronger than you think.” He makes a little frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “If I could snap my fingers and be there with you I would... But I’ve still got your back. View from behind’s pretty damn appealing...”

Sam laughs. Despite the anxiety still churning away in the pit of his belly. Gabriel always finds a way to make him laugh, to relieve the tension knotting inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm ridiculously cruel. Just think how incendiary it's going to be when they finally see each other again. 
> 
> I won't be posting for a few days as I need to get a bit further ahead with the writing. I'm not sure how much writing time I'll get over the next few days either. Fingers crossed I'll fit it in somewhere.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night before the exhibition and Sam can't sleep. But creativity is a strange beast, inspiration striking when it's least expected. Maybe the night isn't a loss after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is super short. The chapter break down just works better this way.

Sam collapses into bed early again. Hanging the exhibition was as exhausting as Sam had thought it would be, but working together, they had finally gotten the job done. Looking around the hall afterwards, Sam had to admit they’d done a good job. With everyone’s best work carefully framed and lit from above, the exhibition looked damn near professional. Everything fitted, nothing stuck out like a sore thumb, even Sam’s pieces... but he couldn’t think about them right now. Charlie’s work had remained beside Sam’s, Zachariah’s far away.

Becky’s was a little close for comfort. Sam had been tempted to argue against Ellen’s placement, but he remembered his promise to Gabriel and he had to admit the placing made sense. Of all the other students in the class, Becky’s work is the most overtly erotic. No surprise there. Most of her pieces are part of a series titled: “Study of Masculinity”. The series in question is comprised of a collection of huge, closely cropped sections of the male form. Essentially, a selection of enormous drawings of cocks, with a couple of asses thrown in for good measure (Sam easily recognised which belonged to Gabriel. He may be biased, but Sam thinks Gabriel definitely has the best... assets). Sam was surprised to find that despite his initial amusement when he first saw her submissions, he actually finds her work quite arresting and it’s certainly accomplished.

Sam sighs as he shifts position in bed. He can’t get comfortable. His limbs ache a little. But it’s mostly his mind that’s the problem. Try as hard as he might, he can’t get the exhibition out of his mind. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the reactions of his class mates. Their faces twisted in disgust... or maybe mocking humor. Would they think his work was distasteful... or ridiculous? In a few short hours he will find out, as his class gathers to prepare for the private viewing. In a few short hours he can’t hide it any more. First his class mates will see it and pass judgement. And then... then their family, their friends... (Sam hasn’t invited anyone. Those that matter will already be present or would not appreciate the mental scarring.) And Sam will have to stand there, justify his work, justify his choices.

After tossing and turning for the hundreth time, Sam climbs out of bed and starts pacing his room, clenching and unclenching his fists. Ok, this isn’t helping. He tries to pull out his research material and do a little studying, but working on his next project is hardly going to distract him. Images of his paintings and drawings keep swimming into his mind. Gabriel standing proud, with golden wings extended behind him, morphing into Gabriel with his head thrown back, mouth fallen open on a cry of pleasure, fingers exploring inside his own body. No matter how hard he tries to hold his focus, his mind has other ideas. Golden wings matching his eyes and golden strands in his hair... Gabriel’s back arched, lips parted, thighs spread, wings spread out behind him... No that was...

Sam halts his footsteps abruptly as his mind reels. That... that was an unexpected image. He couldn’t... he wouldn’t dare. He had planned to paint this fantastical version of Gabriel as both devine and sexual. Naked certainly... perhaps with a little mischief about his person. But this... this would be something else entirely.

Sam grabs his laptop and pulls up the set of images he took today. As part of the cataloging process, he had taken images of every piece in the exhibition. It doesn’t take long for Sam to find his own work amongst the shots and print off a copy of each. He walks over to the large pin board on his wall and clears it before pinning up the images alongside a copy of the sketch he made of Gabriel at Hallowe’en. Underneath, he pins up his inspiration images. Stepping back, he looks over the images. It would be all sorts of crazy, but... Grabbing a pen from a haphazard stack of art materials, Sam steps forward again and starts to draw on the image of his final sketch of Gabriel from that night. He quickly runs out of space and has to rearrange and pin fresh sheets of paper either side.

When he’s finished, he steps back again and regards the image of Gabriel, head thrown back, mouth open, in the throws of ecstasy as he fucks his fingers into his body and pulls his own release from his straining cock. Large Angel wings now stretch out behind him, curved slightly forwards, surrounding him. Almost like he’s curling them in pleasure. The image is certainly arresting, but... Sam grabs his notebook and flicks through his notes. Something is niggling at the back of his mind, some half formed thought he can’t quite grasp. It has something to do with his research from that night in the library, he’s sure of it... But what?

None of the pages on Angels in art hold the answer. He flips further back. Not Monet. Not color theory. Not Bonnard’s pictures in the bathtub... but... and suddenly he makes a cognitive leap. Bonnard’s photographs and more precisely, the thoughts they had triggered in Sam. He remembers thinking about setting a camera up on a tripod, taking shots of himself and Gabriel, caught in an intimate act... His mind provides an image of Gabriel from their video sex session, back arched, mouth open, gaudy pink sex toy up his ass. That was what his mind was half conjuring earlier, that perfect arch of his back... but with golden wings spread out behind him. And not a sex toy... but... but Sam.

~~~

Sam awakens to the sound of a familiar guitar solo. When the vocals begin, he thinks for a moment that it’s Gabriel, but the voice is all wrong. Familiar yes, but not Gabriel. It takes a few seconds for his overtired brain to comprehend that he’s hearing his clock radio, Jimi Hendrix playing the song that’s become so ingrained in his mind. He set his alarm last night, right before he attempted to sleep, but couldn’t. He cracks open an eyelid and blearily regards the lit up numbers on the digital clock face. 10 a.m. Usually he’d be up before this, fitting in a morning run before he starts his day. But he had quite rightly assumed he would find it difficult to sleep. The exact reason however, was a little beyond prediction.

He rubs both eyes and sits up a little, glancing over at the pin board on his wall. Wow. He certainly had been busy. His sleep deprived brain barely remembers some of the sketches up there. The board is covered in compositional sketches, notes. He thinks he may have looked up some porn at some point. Yeah, those are definitely the names of pornos on a post it note, stuck to the corner of the board. And under the names is scrawled: _Look up height difference kink_. Sam rubs a hand over his face. Yeah he might have to hide that note away in the depths of his sketchbook. He has vague memories of failed attempts to set up two artist’s mannequins in compromising positions, finally giving up in frustration as he realised they weren’t flexible enough and it wouldn’t look right anyway, as they were the same height.

Cringing a little in embarassment, _christ_ he’s as bad sleep deprived as he is drunk, Sam swings his legs over the side of the bed and staggers to his feet. He will definitely need to document his work, then hide this shit away. He really can’t risk his brother seeing any of it. There’s no time to do it now though. He needs to be at the exhibition hall by midday and he has to wake the hell up and get himself looking vaguely presentable before then.

He pads over to his dresser to pull out some fresh clothes. As he passes the pinboard, he realizes something’s gotten stuck to the sole of his foot. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he peels a post it note from his skin and squints at the scrappy writing on it. _H. Diff rec – Casa Erotica 13-16_. Sam frowns. So apparently he had made that internet search. Probably after the debacle with the mannequins, one of which appears to be lying abandoned and slightly disjointed, half way under his bed. He’s pretty sure he didn’t get a chance to look up the actual pornos though. Shaking his head at his own crazy thought processes, he sticks the post-it to the board and starts looking out his clothes. He’ll think about it later. After the exhibition. Provided he actually survives it.

~~~

Sam’s nervous as hell. Now that he’s finally brushed away the reminants of sleep, he feels wired and on edge. As he pours himself a cup of coffee, he has to keep pausing to steady his shaking hands. Dean keeps giving him strange looks. Of course his brother has no idea about the exhibition. Perhaps he thinks Sam is nervous about Gabriel’s return. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t say anything, lest he gets drawn into another chick flick moment. Whatever the reason, Sam is thankful.

In an attempt to calm his nerves, Sam switches on his cell and checks for new messages from Gabriel. There’s a couple from last night, uncharacteristically simple messages stating that he was getting on the plane and then when he landed. Sam sighs in relief when he sees this morning’s selfie. Gabriel is already in the car, hair still damp from the shower and clothes looking a little rumpled. He’s clearly made an effort for the exhibition though as he’s finally shaved. Sam will miss the scruff a little, but he can’t deny how gorgeously handsome Gabriel looks like this, beautifully quirked lips a little easier to see in all their glory. Despite the lack of sleep, he looks bright eyed, and judging by the wide smile on his face, incredibly happy.

Despite the nerves still churning in the pit of his belly, Sam feels a warmth spreading through his chest and some of the tension he had there melts away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are very much heading into the finale. I've got a lot to fit in though so I'm thinking it will end up spanning two chapters. I'm having a little battle with it at the moment, but hopefully I'll get my brain in gear and make it work. I suspect it really will be a bit of a wait as I want to do this right, but I promise not to leave you hanging for too long.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The exhibition is due to open in a matter of minutes. Sam is nervous as hell. What will everyone think of his work? Will Gabriel make it in time?

Sam pauses at the door to the exhibition hall. He suddenly has an overwhelming desire to run away. Would it really matter if he didn’t turn up? Everyone else can handle it. Can’t they? He grimaces and shakes his head. No that would be a shitty, selfish thing to do. After everything Ellen’s done for him, he can’t let her down now. He can’t let down his class mates either. So many of them looked nervous too when they dropped off their work. He won’t be the only one feeling this way. They can get through it together... Presuming anyone wants anything to do with him after they see his work.

“Sup Noob?” Sam startles at Charlie’s voice. How had he failed to notice her approaching?

“Hey Charlie,” he says carefully, trying to keep the waver out of his voice.

Charlie eyes him suspiciously. “No offense, but you look like you’ve gone 10 rounds with a Demogorgon.”

Sam winces and runs a hand over his face.

“Couldn’t sleep, so I decided to work through it.”

Charlie gives him a small smile. “Same. Except I put my time to much better use.”

Sam raises a quizzical eyebrow at her when she doesn’t elaborate.

“I gathered the Knights for a late night raid of course. There’s a new expansion pack. Lots of shiny new loot, ready for the plundering.” She raises both hands and wiggles her fingers, a wide smile on her face.

Despite his nerves, Sam can’t help but smile back. They stand like that for a long moment, just looking at each other, smiles becoming more and more strained until Charlie’s drops from her face and she shudders.

“We’ve faced worse right?”

Sam knows he shouldn’t feel glad to see his friend so nervous, but all of a sudden he doesn’t feel so alone. He scrunches up his face as he tries to remember something Charlie mentioned a few weeks back.

“You survived... S1? Yeah?” Sam says with a small smile.

Charlie rolls her eyes at him, “Nobody survives S1, that’s the whole point.”

The half remembered reference has clearly done it’s job though as Sam can see his friend relax, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she pushes the door open. “You have so much to learn, young padawan. Luckily for you, I happen to be something of a master.”

Sam shakes his head as he follows her in. “We’ve been through this Charlie. Role playing’s really not my thing.”

Charlie throws him a mischievous look over her shoulder. “That’s not what Gabriel says.” Yeah, he walked right into that one.

He feels his cheeks start to heat up, images flashing through his mind. Gabriel in his janitor’s uniform, unbuttoned all the way down to his pubic hair... Gabriel in an extremely form fitting cheerleader top and flouncy skirt, with a little flash of soft belly and cute little springy bunches... Gabriel in a skimpy toga and Angel wings, with one nipple exposed and no goddamn underwear... Yeah Charlie may have a point, but holy crap, he really doesn’t want to know how much Gabriel’s actually revealed of their sexual adventures. That shit’s kind of private and he really doesn’t want anyone knowing about...

His train of thought stops dead as his brain finally catches up to the situation. Charlie has been glancing about the hall, taking in the exhibition set up. Her eyes finally land on her own work and then... Sam sees the moment she looks beyond, to the pieces displayed right next to hers. Her mouth drops open in a little ‘o’ of surprise, eyes widening almost comically. After the initial shock has dissipated, she starts to walk over to the display, expression unreadable. Not knowing what the hell to do, Sam follows behind her, heart hammering in his chest, cheeks flushed bright red.

Sam bites his lip and stands silently beside her as she regards his work, fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of his shirt. After what seems like an eternity, but in reality is only a few moments, Charlie turns to face him, eyes assessing. Sam feels his stomach clenching painfully under her scrutiny. He opens his mouth to say something in his defense. He really should have rehearsed this. He knew this was coming after all. But he can’t think of a thing to say. He drops his gaze and shuffles his feet awkwardly.

“Holy shit Sam, I never knew you were so kinky.”

Sam looks up, startled by the tone of her voice. She... she’s smiling brightly at him.

“No wonder Gabriel’s all goo goo eyes over you,” she looks him up and down, “well besides the obvious. I may be gay, but I’m not blind. Gotta say, I’m liking this new side to you.”

Sam doesn’t know what to say, he feels his eyes start to sting and has a horrible feeling he won’t be able to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill forth. Charlie takes one look at him and steps right up to him, wrapping her arms tightly about his waist.

“You’ve done good Noob,” Charlie says into his chest. “Everyone will see that.” Sam wraps his arms around her and just lets the tears fall.

“And if they don’t?” Sam asks, voice cracking horribly.

“Then I’ll kick ‘em in the shins.”

Sam laughs into her hair and just holds on.

~~~

The next half hour is certainly nerve wracking, but not the soul destroying disaster Sam anticipated. As more and more students filter in, in dribs and drabs, Sam finds himself starting to relax a fraction. Most of their reactions are pretty similar to Charlie’s. There’s a lot of raised eyebrows, a smattering of startled profanity and one squeeled cry of utter delight... but after the initial sock fades away, the reception he receives from his fellow students is amazingly, overwhelmingly positive. Sam has a hard time comprehending it. He was so sure of a negative reaction that he was braced to face a torrent of hostility. The smiles and reassurances and compliments are so utterly unexpected that Sam’s mind is reeling.

Of course Zachariah has yet make an appearance. The man is ever punctual, so Sam has to conclude that he thinks of this setting up business as beneath him. It’s a relief to delay the inevitable. Sam is under no delusions. He knows how the man will react. And so even as he feels the support of his peers bolster his confidence, there’s still an underswell of foreboding in the pit of his belly, the tension never really leaving his body.

Thankfully Ellen arrives with the catering shortly after the last of the students, bar Zachariah, and they’re all suddenly far too busy to feel nervous.

~~~

25 minutes to go. Sam looks down at his watch for the hundreth time in the last hour. As the opening time rapidly approaches, he feels the panic start to set in again. They finished set up a good half hour ago and Ellen has already given her pep talk. She’s now circling around the more nervous students, attempting to allay their fears and boost their confidence. Sam shuffles his feet and fiddles with his sleeve again. He notes with a grimace that the button’s coming loose and the edge is looking a bit frayed. Why didn’t he look out a better shirt? Does he even own a better shirt. Shit, he can’t do this, he can’t-

There’s a sudden loud bang and everyone in the room stops what they’re doing to look over at the door, which has been flung wide open. Sam’s breath catches in his throat as his eyes alight on the man striding into the room, head held high and a playful smirk written across his features. _Gabriel_

“Hey, who started the party without me?” Gabriel drawls to the room at large, with raised eyebrows and a dramatic sweep of his arm. 

There’s a smattering of giggles and sniggers and also one or two groans. Sam says nothing. He’s frozen on the spot, unable to do anything but stare. His heart is playing a little staccato rythmn in his chest and a swarm of butterflies have taken up residence in his stomach.

Gabriel looks around the hall, searching, and suddenly golden eyes are locking on to him. Sam watches in awe as Gabriel’s features light up and a wide grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. He wishes to hell that his body would just get with the program. Why won’t his limbs work goddamit? He wants so desperately to walk up to Gabriel and wrap his arms around him. But his legs feel too heavy to move and he just can’t...

It matters little, as Gabriel is striding over to him. Sam gets very little warning as Gabriel suddenly speeds up, running the last few steps, leaps, and throws himself into Sam’s embrace. Sam staggers back a step and very nearly crashes backwards into his own display, as Gabriel’s legs wrap around his waist, ankles crossing in the small of Sam’s back. He quickly widens his stance and places steadying hands on Gabriel’s body, one on his back, the other... well to be fair, the ass really is the most logical place to hold him in position.

They just look at each other for a moment, Gabriel’s smile wide and dimpled, eyes crinkling at the corners. And then he surges forward and Sam has to brace himself again as Gabriel’s mouth crashes into his own, tongue demanding access, hands burried in Sam’s hair, grabbing fist fulls of his locks, pulling almost painfully at his scalp. _Christ_. This time it doesn’t take long for Sam to get with the program. He opens up and melts into the kiss. Gabriel groans into his mouth as he’s finally granted access. The kiss is deep and dirty and full of desperation. Thoroughly caught up in the moment, Sam squeezes Gabriel’s ass, enjoying the feel of the tight, but supple muscle through the fabric of his jeans, relishing the noises Gabriel makes at the simple touch. The world receeds, Sam’s focus narrowed to the incredible sensations of Gabriel’s lips and tongue, the warm press of his body, the intense pleasure-pain of the sharp tugs at his scalp. Nothing else matters, nothing but this.

Eventually they have to break for air and it’s far too soon. He desperately wants the moment to last forever, but unfortunately such things as breathing become a pressing necessity. His arms and back are starting to ache, but he doesn’t want to let go of Gabriel just yet. Let the world wait for them, let gravity wait, goddamit.

Reality, however, has other ideas. Sam is suddenly aware that they’re far from alone. No one has anything to do until the exhibition starts and as such, every single pair of eyes are on them. Sam feels his cheeks go bright red as he finally draws his eyes away from Gabriel’s face and takes in the expressions of his classmates. No one is shocked or disturbed, most are simply amused... well except Becky, who looks like she’s going to explode from excitement. Sam bites his lip and wonders if he should stammer out an apology. His eyes alight on Ellen, standing a little closer now, eyebrows raised and arms crossed, amusement written across her features.

“I don’t remember extending the exhibition to include performance art Gabriel.”

Gabriel cranes his neck to smirk at her, the shift in weight almost toppling them again. Sam carefully lowers a reluctant Gabriel to floor, but keeps a hand on his back, unwilling to break contact just yet. Gabriel pouts a little, but his expression soon turns into a warm smile. He raises himself up onto his tip toes and presses a quick kiss to the corner of Sam’s mouth, trailing his fingers down Sam’s arm, until he reaches his hand and threads their fingers together.

The buzz of background chatter resumes again, attentions finally shifting away from them as everyone’s thoughts turn to the imminent opening. Everyone except Ellen that is. Distracted as he is by Gabriel, Sam can’t help but notice that she’s still standing there regarding them with amusement, and perhaps a little fondness.

Ellen clears her throat and Gabriel rolls his eyes, before turning to face her, eyebrows raised in an expression that clearly reads as _what the hell now_? Sam throws her an apologetic look and she gives him a small smile before turning her attention back to Gabriel.

“And I don’t remember giving you a plus one,” Ellen says in a low voice and they both follow her gaze over to the buffet table, where Luke is busily pulling apart the fancy canapies, and making a disgusted face as he discards the offending ingredients on the table cloth, and shoves the remains into his mouth. Gabriel’s face twists into an exaggerated frown and he shrugs his shoulders.

Ellen just stares back at him until he rolls his eyes.

“Couldn’t ditch the fam. We just got back. It would be rude.”

Sam really has to hand it to Ellen, all she has to do is keep staring that hard stare and Gabriel finally relents.

“Yeesh. Ok. Ok. I’ll get Cas on it. Any shenanigans and Cassie’ll show him the exit. No fuss no muss”

Ellen looks unconvinced, but she sighs and nods. Gabriel squeezes Sam’s hand and gives him a heated look before breaking contact and making a beeline for Castiel, who’s hovering awkwardly at the other side of the room.

Ellen shakes her head and pinches her sinuses.

“Uh,” Sam begins, not really sure where to start.

“Sam, if you don’t stop apologising for Gabriel, you’ll never get a moment’s peace in your life.” She shakes her head again, but her eyes are alight with humor. “I’m glad you got your boy back in time.”

Sam bites his lip, worry starting to knaw at his belly again.

“You’ll do just fine, you hear me?” Ellen gives his forearm a reasuring squeeze before heading off to talk to Becky, who looks a like she might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Sam frowns in concern, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on the matter, as at that very moment, the door swings open again.

Sam feels tension grip his body. Ellen hasn’t officially opened the exhibition yet, so there’s only one person this could be. This is it, this is-

But it’s not Zachariah. No, it’s someone else entirely. In that moment Sam surprises himself by really wishing it had been Zachariah, because what the _actual fuck_ is his _brother_ doing here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray they're finally back together. *Throws confetti*. Apologies for a lack of sexy times. They do have a rather eventful exhibition to get through first before they can completely ravish eachother.
> 
> So I know I said 2 chapters, but at the moment I'm looking at at least 3. Er... oops? There's a whole lot of shit going down. I'm ratcheting up the drama a fair few notches here. Get ready for a bit of a crazy shit storm. Bit of cracky humor, a fair dollop of angst and of course a large helping of extremely sappy love. Hopefully the next chapter should be out in a couple of days.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stress is starting to get to Sam. He definitely hasn't had enough sleep, his brother has just turned up uninvited and Luke is an unpredictable factor Sam just hadn't counted on. The whole situation has him on edge. Can he make it through the next couple hours without incident or will this powder keg of crazy go up in his face?

“Dean-o!” Gabriel yells excitedly, mercifully grabbing Dean’s attention before his roaming eyes can catch sight of Sam.

Dean rolls his eyes before turning to face Gabriel, a tight, rather unconvincing smile on his face. It soon turns genuine as he catches sight of Castiel, standing by Gabriel’s side. Sam almost forgets his predicament as he watches Castiel’s bright blue eyes light up at the sight of Dean, a warm smile spreading over his weary features.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel says as Dean walks over to him, gravely voice sounding a little breathless, even from here.

Dean stops just short of Cas, eyes bright and a wide smile on his face. “Hey Cas.”

Heedless of the people surrounding them and his brother making faces by his side, Cas steps forward, right into Dean’s personal space and they just stand there, making eyes at each other, gazes turning decidedly heated. Gabriel catches Sam’s eyes and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while pointing at their brothers, and mouths something at him. Sam doesn’t catch all that he’s trying to say, but he certainly catches the phrase _eye fucking_ and most definitely gets the general gist. Sam rubs a hand over his face. _Christ_.

He chances a glance around the room. Any slim hope he may have harbored that no one has noticed, vanishes in an instant. Everyone is once again focused on one thing. This time, his brother and his highly freakin inappropriate eye fucking session. Sam knows he’s being hypocritical in the extreme, but for christ sake, he does not need this shit. At least Becky looks like she’s gotten over her nerves for the moment: she’s looking at Dean and Cas with more than a little interest, wide eyed and biting down on her bottom lip. But Luke, shit Luke, has abandoned his attack on the hors d'oeuvres and is regarding Dean with narrowed eyes and a grimace on his face. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Time to fucking intervene. Sam steels himself and strides over to his brother, trying his best to ignore the look of disbelief on Ellen’s face. He’s definitely going to have a lot of apologising to do himself by the time this thing is through.

Sam ignores Gabriel’s unhelpful and mostly obscene hand gestures, and clears his throat loudly. Dean must be really entranced, because it takes him a good few seconds to even react. Finally, _finally_, he tears his gaze away from Castiel, who’s looking like he’s just coming around from a goddamn trance. Sam just purses his lips and glares at his brother pointedly with raised eyebrows.

Dean’s face is still looking goofy as hell for a fraction of a second, until he actually shakes his head a little and raises his eyebrows back at Sam, attempting an innocent expression that falls utterly flat.

“Dude, seriously?” Sam grits out in a low voice.

“What?” Dean asks, still trying on the innocent act, which is pretty damn difficult to pull off, given that he’s mere inches from Castiel, and his eyes keep flicking over to the man, whilst his tongue darts out to run over his bottom lip.

Sam sends his brother an epic bitchface and opens his mouth to elaborate, as Dean’s clearly being deliberately obtuse, but Gabriel beats him to it.

“You look like you’re one hot minute away from fucking my lil bro up against that there wall,” Gabriel flings an arm over Cas’ shoulders before helpfully adding, “if you catch my drift.”

“_Jesus Gabe_,” Sam hisses at the exact same time as Cas mutters, “You may think you are funny Gabriel, but you are not.”

He pushes Gabriel’s arm from his shoulders and glares daggers at him. Dean looks like he can’t decide whether to laugh or panic... or maybe proceed with Gabriel’s suggestion. Sam has no idea what the status of the Luke situation is... most likely he’s plotting new and creative ways to eviscerate Dean. He can hear several snorts and giggles from his classmates. Oh and the exhibition is due to start any goddamn minute.

“I’m not wrong though,” Gabriel sing songs.

_Fuck’s sake_. Sam grabs Gabriel’s arm and pulls him close enough to hiss into his ear. “Your brother is about five seconds away from skinning my brother alive, go deal with it.” Sam doesn’t miss the way Gabriel shivers at the feel of Sam’s breath on his ear and the realisation makes his heart skip a beat.

Gabriel furrows his brow in confusion and looks over at Castiel, like he can’t quite understand how that sentence could be construed as an innuendo.

_Christ_. “Not that brother,” Sam purses his lips and grabs hold of Gabriel’s chin, moving it around to face the buffet table, where-

Sam halts and winces as he takes in the sight of Ellen, standing there in front of them with her arms crossed and no hint of humor on her features.

Ellen’s narrowed eyes regard each of them in turn. Sam suddenly feels like he’s 10 years old and a few long months away from that growth spurt.

“You boys care to shelf the amateur dramatics,” Ellen finally says. “This is an exhibition,” she looks pointedly at Dean and Cas who are still several inches inside each other’s personal space, “not love island.”

Dean clears his throat nervously and rubs the back of his neck, before shuffling back a couple of steps. Cas just blinks at her, a wide eyed, deer in headlights expression on his face. Gabriel takes one look at the two of them and bursts into laughter.

“That means you too, Gabriel,” Ellen says, with an unmistakable edge of irritation in her voice. “Anymore foolishness out of you and I’ll be asking you to leave. You got that?”

Gabriel chokes on the last of his laughter and coughs a little as he straightens up and schools his features. His lips are twitching a little - possibly something to do with Luke making highly amused faces at him from his position propped against the buffet table - but he mercifully refrains from opening his mouth to blurt out some witty and most likely off color comeback.

Ellen must see something in Sam’s expression, because she doesn’t give him the dressing down he probably deserves. Instead she just gives a mildly sympathetic look and shakes her head a little.

She sighs and draws in a breath, “In precisely two minutes time, I am going to open that door and I don’t want to see any more bedroom eyes,” she looks at Dean and Cas. Dean swallows and looks away, Cas looks like he wants to disappear inside his own trenchcoat. “No more groping,” she looks pointedly at Sam now and he feels his cheeks flushing in embarassment. “And no more climbing your boy like he’s a damn tree.” Gabriel is fighting really hard to keep a straight face as Ellen turns her attention to him, one corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably. Furrowing his brow, he pulls the offending lips into mouth and nods his head.

Ellen sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “You boys are going to be the death of me,” she mutters under her breath, before turning to face the whole class. “Ok, everyone get into position, let’s do this”

~~~

Sam stands beside his paintings once more, nervously eyeing the door as Ellen steps up to open it. Gabriel is a reassuring presence beside him. Dean and Cas are still standing over at the other side of the room, with a slightly more respectable distance between them. They still keep glancing at each other and smiling, but they’re so far managing to keep their gazes rated suitable for general viewing.

As Ellen finally opens the exhibition to the awaiting guests, Gabriel brushes his fingers gently against Sam’s hand. Sam looks down at him and Gabriel gives him a small smile before mouthing _I love you_. Sam feels his heart stutter in his chest. He grabs hold of Gabriel’s hand and squeezes tightly, hoping to convey the strength of his feelings with the pressure of his grip, _I love you too_. Gabriel seems to get the message, as his smile widens, dimples appearing at the corners. Sam gives Gabriel’s hand one more squeeze and returns his smile, before reluctantly letting go and turning his attention back to the doorway... just in time to catch sight of Zachariah sauntering in with a decidedly smug look on his face.

_Shit_ this is it. Sam watches him warily as he steps up to the welcoming table and picks up a glass of prosecco. Ellen gives him a tight lipped smile, clearly unhappy with his tardiness and presumptious behavior, but unwilling to say anything given that he’s surrounded by a group of guests dressed in expensive suits and wearing matching expressions of arrogant self-importance. Sam bites down on his lip as he fights the urge to step in front of his paintings and hide them from view, heart hammering in his chest as Zachariah glances around the exhibition. Somewhat miraculously, his gaze skips over Sam without noticing anything’s amiss. Finally noting the position of his own work, he ushers his guests over. Sam lets out the breath he was holding in. Zachariah is far too involved with promoting his own work, and basking in the praise of his guests, to take any notice of his fellow students.

Sam doesn’t kid himself, he knows this is a brief reprieve, but he’s incredibly grateful nevertheless.

It doesn’t take long for the room to fill with people. As the guests make their way into the hall, the majority seek out family and friends and dutifully make their way over to view the work of their loved ones first. One or two make a beeline for the buffet, while a small number check the catalogue and start to work their way around the pieces in order. For the moment, Sam is unencumbered. He’s not sure whether to be glad or more damn nervous. Part of him just really wants to get it over with.

He can tell Gabriel’s getting a little impatient too, so when he makes a tentative remark about the food and drink, Sam nods his head and gives him what he hopes is a reasuring smile. _Sure, I’ll be fine_. Gabriel smiles back and practically skips over to the welcoming table to grab two glasses of prosecco. He returns briefly to press one glass into Sam’s hand – Sam considers refusing, but hell he really could do with a drink to calm his nerves, so he accepts the glass with a greatful smile – before wandering off in the direction of the buffet table.

Sam sips his prosecco and watches as Gabriel loads a plate with a mountain of finger food, predominantely of the sweet variety. He takes a large bite of a profiterole, getting cream all over his fingers in the process. Dropping the remains on his plate, he brings his fingers to his mouth and starts sucking the mess from them. _Shit_. Sam should really look away. He can already feel heat begin to pool in his groin and he really can’t afford to get a damn inappropriate boner right now. Thankfully he’s saved from his predicament by Luke of all people.

How the hell could he have forgotten about Luke? Wasn’t Cas supposed to be keeping an eye on him? Nope, a quick glance across the hall confirms that Cas is still busy making eyes at Dean, inbetween attempting a half hearted effort to appreciate the artwork of Sam’s classmates. Well, shit, of all the people he has to answer to first, it would be the one who threatened to rip the spine from his body a few short weeks ago.

Sam takes a large gulp of prosecco as Luke makes his way over to Sam’s work and starts to study it closely with brows drawn together in concentration. Sam suddenly wonders why on earth he was so worried about Zachariah, when clearly he should have been thinking about Luke’s reaction. Here the man is, studying the pictures Sam has drawn, pictures of his younger brother pleasuring himself with his own fingers, a great big drawing of Gabriel caught in the moment of orgasm as he fucks himself on those same digits and strips his release from his straining cock. _Holy crap_, why hadn’t he thought about this? If their roles were reversed and- Ew no his brain really, really can’t go there. Sam wishes the floor beneath him would open up and swallow him whole. Where’s a damn Hellmouth when you need one?

After a few long torturous moments, Luke turns his attention to Sam. He steps right into Sam’s personal space and scrutinises his face. Sam’s eyes dart across to Gabriel, hoping he might have taken note. Hoping that he might just swoop in and save Sam’s ass. But Gabriel is busy talking animatedly to Kevin, while popping bitesized chocolate brownies in his mouth. Shit. When Sam’s eyes flick back to Luke, the man is still staring at him.

Finally, he opens his mouth, and says in a low dangerous voice, “Are you fucking my brother?”

_Not in the literal sense no, but Gabriel sure as hell wants me to. Keeps talking about my dick in his ass, so I’m pretty sure I’m getting lucky tonight_. Sam swallows around the lump that’s suddenly blocking his airway. If it was anyone else, he’d tell them to mind their own damn business, but this isn’t just anybody.

“I... we,” Sam croaks out. He clears his throat and opens his mouth to try again as Luke tilts his head and just keeps on staring. He isn’t sure what comes over him in that moment, but he sure as hell surprises the crap out of himself as he meets Luke’s eyes, displaying an air of confidence he didn’t think he had in him. “We’re dating, we’ve had sex,” he simply states. His voice remains remarkably level.

Luke continues to scrutinise his face for a fraction of a second more before uttering one single word. “Good”.

And with that, he turns on his heel and stalks away, leaving Sam gaping after him. What the hell just happened? Sam glances down at his prosecco, wondering idly if someone spiked the thing, because this shit’s just too damn weird to be reality.

“Sam?” Castiel’s gravelly voice brakes him from his thoughts and he looks up, dread slowly filtering it’s way back through his body. Castiel is now standing in front of him and his brother is right there beside him. Well this should be a festival of fucking fun. Sam doesn’t know whether to run out of the building screaming until someone tackles him with a straight jacket, or fall to his knees in delirious laughter... probably resulting in the same sorry end. “Sam, I hope my brother didn’t say anything to...”

Castiel’s voice trails off as he glances over Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s not sure what’s caught his attention. Is it the fingers stretching open his brother’s hole. Or maybe it’s the come spurting out of his brother’s cock. Whatever it is, that wide eyed deer in headlights look has taken up residence on Castiel’s face again and he appears to have utterly lost the ability to speak.

Where the fuck is Gabriel when he needs him? Gabriel always knows what to say, always knows how to deflect and fix any damn messed up situation... Well those he isn’t busy causing that is. Sam chances a look over to the buffet table, where Gabriel appears to be having a heated discussion with Luke. Or at least he’s talking at Luke in what appears to be a heated manner, while Luke glares with narrowed eyes, not at Sam this time, but at Zachariah of all people. What the fuck is going on there? Sam doesn’t have a chance to find out, as Dean has decided to join in the fun.

Sam turns his attention back to his brother, just in time to catch Dean giving Cas a confused look before flicking his eyes back to Sam. “Dude, what’s up with you not telling me about your show?” For whatever reason, Dean has momentarily failed to follow Cas’ gaze, preferring instead to take the opportunity to bitch at his brother. “You think I can’t look at a bunch of dicks and tits and not keep a straight f-fuck! What the fuck is that?” Dean had been gesturing at the art work on the walls and inevitably caught sight of Sam’s work in the process.

Sam feels his left eye twitching and his mouth twisting into a grimace as Dean looks in horror at the images beside him.

“Is that... is that _Gabriel_...” Dean trails off, clearly unable to finish the sentence and equally unable to tear his eyes away from Sam’s paintings.

“Yes, yes that’s Gabriel. Fucking himself with his own fingers,” Sam hisses at his brother, finally losing his shit. He stabs a finger at the large charcoal drawing. “And that, that there, is Gabriel having an almighty, ear piercingly loud orgasm. That. Is. Why. I. Didn’t. Fucking. Invite. You.”

Sam stops and just stares at his brother, jaw clenched hard enough to hurt, breaths coming heavily through his nose. Dean actually looks hurt and Sam feels something unpleasant twist in his stomach. He presses his lips together and runs a hand over his face, looking away from Dean’s startled features. _Shit_. Charlie’s looking at him with raised eyebrows, her gathered friends and family glancing over with mild concern. _Oh hell_. He quickly scans the room. Miraculously, the background chatter appears to have been loud enough to mask most of the altercation. There are a few curious glances from those nearby, but most people are too wrapped up in their own conversations to take note. _Thank fuck for small favors_.

Gabriel has apparently finally noticed what’s going on. He and Luke have seemingly gotten over their little spat and are now leaning against the table, popping bite sized treats into their mouths and watching the preceedings like they’re at the damn movies, matching smirks on their faces. _Fuck's sake_. Sam shoots them one of his most potent bitchfaces. Luke mocks fear, before laughing loud enough to turn a few heads. Gabriel at least looks a little chastised. He places down his plate and starts to walk over.

Sam reluctantly turns his attention back to his brother and Cas. He just has enough time to take in Dean’s pinched and pale features before Gabriel joins them.

“Hey bro and future bro-in-law,” Gabriel drawls as he attempts to fling an arm about both of their shoulders. Cas looks a little startled, but Dean actually jumps back a few steps and makes a face at him. Gabriel makes a face back, but then he just shrugs a shoulder and throws him an expression that clearly says, _suit your self_.

Dean rubs a hand over his face, sighs and after a beat says, “I need a drink.” He motions for Cas to join him and goes stomping off in the direction of the welcoming table, adding a muttered, “And some fucking therapy,” under his breath.

Cas extracates himself from Gabriel, ignoring his brother’s pout and steps forward to address Sam with a serious expression on his face. Sam feels all kinds of shitty. The last thing in the world he wanted to do, was traumatise the hell out of this kind and generous man. He should have at least warned him. Sam feels a stab of guilt. He had been way too wrapped in Gabriel to even think about the impact his work would have on Gabriel’s brothers... Then again, he hadn’t exactly expected either of them to turn up.

Cas frowns and places a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Do not worry, Sam. Dean will... get over it. He was just a little... surprised.” Castiel’s eyes flick over to Sam’s work on the wall and Sam tries his best not to flinch. “As was I.” Cas looks back into Sam’s eyes, blue eyes filled with sincerity. “I apologise Sam. Gabriel did not explain the situation,” he throws his brother an irritated look, Gabriel answering it with a somewhat childish expression. “If I had known, I would not have invited Dean and I would have sought out your permission before attending myself.”

Sam raises his eyebrows at that. Cas would have still come? Even if he knew what was awaiting him? That’s...

Cas gives him a small kind smile, as if reading his thoughts. “You have a great deal of talent Sam. Thank you for the opportunity to experience it.” Sam feels a tightness in his chest. Of course Cas would be undertanding, of course he would be supportive. It only serves to make Sam feel worse. Cas purses his lips. “My initial reaction was... I have to confess I was taken by surprise... But do not think that is a reflection on the quality of your work.” Cas smiles once more and gives Sam’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, before turning and making his way over to where Dean is standing making a face at the choice of beverages.

Sam knocks back the rest of the prosecco and contemplates the bottom of the empty glass. Cas’ kind words aside, this is a real shit storm and he hasn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. There’s still Zachariah to deal with, not mention all the other frickin people in the room. He wants another goddamn drink, but he can hardly wander over there now, can he? Not with his brother too damn disturbed to even look at him.

“Sooooooo,” Gabriel’s sing song voice breaks into his thoughts and he looks up to see him rocking back on his heels. “That went... Terribly.”

Unbidden, Sam feels a cold resentment start to build inside of him. He clenches his jaw and tries to calm himself. But _fuck_. If Gabriel hadn’t invited his brothers... If Gabriel had at least warned them... What the fuck had he been _thinking_?... Hadn’t he noticed when Cas texted Dean?... Hadn’t he tried to put a stop to it?

“Hey, why don’t I go talk to your bro?” Gabriel says. He tilts his head and with a playful smirk stretching across his features he adds, “I’m sure with a little persuasion, he’ll come to realise that my come face is the best damn thing-”

“Haven’t you done enough?!” Sam grits out.

The words escape his mouth before he can stop them, regret washing through him like a tidal wave as he watches the smirk fall from Gabriel’s features. Sam’s heart clenches as it’s replaced with a look of hurt, but that too fades away as Gabriel’s expression becomes shuttered.

“Gabriel...” Sam tries, but Gabriel throws him a dangerous look, mouth pressed into an unhappy line, eyes alight with anger.

He gives Sam one more look that makes the pit fall out of Sam’s stomach and stalks away. Sam just watches helplessly, the knowlege dawning on him that he may have just screwed things up beyond repair. And there’s nothing, nothing he can do about it. Because a group of guests have just arrived at his station, and one of them has just launched into a surprisingly flattering critique of his work. He can’t leave, he can’t cause a scene and fuck things up for Ellen even more than he already has. And so Sam turns to engage with his admirer, trying his very best to pretend that he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning, trying to pretend that his heart isn’t breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry... Eek. Please forgive Sam, he is stressed beyond belief. Never fear, this is not the end. I'm currently doing battle with penultimate chapter and I always like a little leeway in case I need to change anything. I'll try not to keep you hanging too long.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam can't get his head in the game. He's screwed things up with his brother... with Gabriel. He's going through the motions. His heart is aching and he can't help looking over at a disinterested Gabriel. But suddenly, something shifts. Tensions are rising and something is going down, something that Sam can't quite get a grasp on.
> 
> *Trigger warning - Homophobia, verbal/expressions*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shit is most definitely about to hit that fan... Get ready for a big dollop of angst. Side of fluff too... it is me after all. Can't help but get a bit sappy.

Sam feels numb. He’s going through the motions. Most of the guests have moved on from their loved ones and are working their way around the rest of the exhibition, curious to see the work of the rest of the class. The reception Sam’s work receives is decidedly mixed. Some people praise his work, but just as many snigger or shake their heads, or look upon his work with poorly disguised distaste. It seems that his class mates families and friends aren’t quite as forward thinking or open minded as they are. Sam struggles to even care. He makes a half hearted attempt to answer questions and defend his work, but mostly, mostly he just stands back and lets it all wash over him.

Ellen frowns at him as she makes her rounds. He attempts to shoot her a reassuring smile. He can see she isn’t convinced, but another student catches her attention and she bustles over to save the poor soul from one of Zachariah’s minions.

None of Zachariah’s group have made it over to him yet, but he knows it’s only a matter of time. Even the thought of another altercation, doesn’t make a dent in his current lugubrious state.

Charlie looks over at him from time to time, concern written on her features, but she’s too busy fielding questions about her own work to come over and Sam’s kind of glad. How can he explain anyway. He fucked up. First he chewed out his brother over his pretty damn understandable reaction. Then he... then he lashed out at Gabriel. Sure Gabriel wasn’t helping, with the smirks and flippant attitude, but he really didn’t deserve... those words. Words that clearly hit him to his core. In his own messed up way, Gabriel _was_ only trying to help. And Sam...

Sam attempts to stifle the sob that tries to escape his throat and ends up making an odd strangled noise instead. The slender, quirkily dressed man currently studying his work, gives him a perplexed look, before shaking his head and walking off without comment.

Sam chances another look over at Gabriel. He tries not to, Gabriel has pointedly avoided eye contact, he clearly wants nothing to do with Sam. But Sam’s eyes are inevitably drawn back to him, time and time again.

A few minutes ago, a short, scruffy looking man had entered the room and Gabriel had made a loud exclamation before making his way over and enveloping the man in a huge bear hug. The man was clearly startled, but gave Gabriel a small, if slightly awkward smile when finally released. The two had then made their way over to Becky, who had jumped up and down with excitement before drawing them both into another hug.

Sam watches as the man reluctantly takes pictures of Gabriel and Becky as they strike ridiculous poses at either side of a huge charcoal drawing of Gabriel’s dick. Gabriel now has one hand placed under the bottom of the picture and the other stretched to the top, one eyebrow is raised, and he’s mouthing _actual size_ at the camera. Sam can clearly hear Becky’s loud snort of laughter. The man holding the camera looks about furtively, clearly extremely embarassed. His light blue eyes meet Sam’s and he flushes bright red before quickly looking away.

Of course, he must be Becky’s long suffering boyfriend. Gabriel had mentioned they knew each other from way back. He looks roughly the same age as Gabriel, though certainly more weary, dark circles clearly visible under his eyes. If Sam has to hazard a guess, he’d say the guy most likely suffers pretty badly from insomnia. Sam can relate. He went through a really rough patch after Jess... Sam only realises he’s been staring when the man walks up to Gabriel and says something in a low voice. _Shit_. Gabriel’s eyes flick up to his briefly, gaze averting quickly as his smile flattens into an impassive line. Gabriel shakes his head and says something back.

Sam has to look away, heart clenching painfully in his chest. Well that kind of confirms it. Gabriel can’t stand the sight of him.

Sam can feel tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes and he rubs them away furiously. He can’t have a goddamn breakdown right now. He glances over to Charlie. She’s clearly engaged with a difficult critic. There’s a tightness about her eyes as she answers a question from a severe looking blond woman in a high end, designer power suit. The woman looks like she belongs with Zachariah’s group, though Sam doesn’t remember seeing her enter with the others.

There’s a sudden noise over to his right that draws his attention back over to Gabriel despite himself, because he’s pretty sure... Gabriel’s stance is tense and he’s talking in fast, hushed tones to his friend, who’s eyes are wide and worried. Sam watches in confusion as Gabriel strides over to Castiel and grabs his arm, hissing something into his ear. Castiel’s blue eyes widen too as he follows Gabriel’s gaze over to... the woman who currently appears to be giving a panicked looking Charlie a dressing down. Sam turns his attention back to Gabriel and Cas... and Dean. Dean’s still here and he seems to be just as confused as Sam is. He furrows his brow and actually looks over at Sam, momentarily forgetting their earlier falling out. Sam just gives him a helpless shrug. He has no clue what’s going on.

Cas nods his head, a determined expression on his face. He moves through the crowd to Luke, who appears to be back to disassembling canapies. The two exchange a few words. Luke furrows his brow, says something else and then his expression changes into one of suspicion. He looks up and scans the crowd.

Sam sees the instant his gaze falls on the woman in question; his narrowed eyes light up with an unmistakable fury. He starts to push his way through the crowd, but Castiel grabs hold of his arm and pulls him backwards. Gabriel is suddenly there too, holding on to Luke’s forearms, stroking his thumbs up and down. Gabriel’s back is to him, Sam can’t see or hear what he’s saying, but he can see the effect he’s having on Luke. Slowly, but surely, the fire fades from Luke’s eyes. His lips are pressed into an unhappy line, but he’s listening. Castiel says something and Luke rolls his eyes, but it’s clear the fight has gone out of him. Finally he looks back at Gabriel and nods his head minutely.

Sam watches in awe as Castiel leads a dejected Luke towards the door. He’s never seen this side of Gabriel before. He knows that Gabriel cares for his brothers, despite all the merciless teasing he subjects them to, but this gentle, protective side... It reminds Sam painfully of his relationship with his own brother. Gabriel clenches and unclenches his fists as he watches Cas and Luke retreat.

Zachariah looks up as the two near him, sneers at Luke and says something to the elegantly dressed woman beside him. They both laugh. Even at this distance, Sam can tell the joke is on Luke and he feels anger uncoil itself in the pit of his belly. Gabriel’s hands clench tight enough to turn his knuckles white and Sam can see, even through the fabric of his cargo jacket, the tension holding his spine rigid. As Castiel ushers Luke to the doorway, he regards Zachariah with a tilt of his head and a dangerous look in his eyes. Zachariah just shakes his head and chuckles. Luke for his part looks like he’s just done. Rolling his eyes at Zachariah and his minion, he just flips them off and stalks out of the room. Cas however is not quite done yet. He steps closer to Zachariah and says something in a voice that carries a little futher. Over at the far side of the hall Sam can’t make out any of the words except... _Assbutt_? Did Cas just really call Zachariah an _Assbutt_? What does that even mean?

Zachariah and his companion appear more amused than intimidated. They both turn their backs on a still fuming Castiel and resume their conversation. Cas’ shoulder’s finally hunch over as he realises just how ineffectual his anger is. He glances once more at Gabriel, before turning and following Luke out of the door.

Sam takes a step towards Gabriel. In that moment he doesn’t care that their relationship may be over. All he cares about is making sure that Gabe is ok.

He doesn’t make it any futher however, as the blond woman is suddenly there, partially blocking his path, a small smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Sam Winchester, I presume,” she says in a measured voice as her eyes trail over his form, clearly finding him lacking as she takes in his jeans, frayed flannel shirt and too long hair.

“Uh yeah,” he replies, trying not to be intimidated by her air of superiority. “I just need to”. He gestures at Gabriel’s still turned back and tries to move forward, but she stops him with a hand to his elbow, which she drops almost immediately when she knows she has his full attention.

“This will only take a moment.”

Sam sighs, but nods, thinking he might get away quicker if he just goes along with it. He glances once more at Gabriel’s tense form before turning with her to regard his work. He waits as she scrutinises his pieces one, by one, trying his hardest not to show his impatience.

At length she turns to him and says with that same cold smile on her face, “And you deem these pieces to be suitable for display at a public exhibition.”

Sam clenches his jaw and meets her gaze. “Yes,” he simply states. Something about this woman puts his back up.

“I see.” She pauses and turns her attention to the profile of Gabriel.

“You might want to think twice before continuing your association with the Novaks,” she says the name in a quiet voice, like it’s a dirty word. “Their reputation precedes them and they have a way of,” she pauses, choosing her words carefully, “corrupting those around them.” Her gaze flicks over to the image of Gabriel with his head thrown back in ecstasy.

Sam feels his blood begin to boil. “I think I know exactly who I want to associate with- ”

He breaks off as he feels warm fingers entwine with his. His heart skips a beat as he looks down to see Gabriel standing there beside him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Hey Naomi,” Gabriel drawls. “How’s it hanging? Long time no see.”

The woman, Naomi, regards him with undisguised distaste. “Gabriel”.

“Ooh!” Gabriel exclaims, letting go of Sam’s hand and stepping forward. “Looking for a materpiece to brighten up that ol dreary office? Look no further.” He indicates the portrait of himself reaching climax with a flourish of his hand.

The condescending smile is nowhere to be seen as Naomi narrows her eyes at Gabriel, mouth set into a furious line.

“Not big enough for ya? No problemo,” he motions towards Becky, who’s standing there with her boyfriend, both of them watching the proceedings with wide eyes, “see that perky little blonde over there? Got a while lotta dick. Might be right up your alley. If you catch my drift.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Naomi’s blue eyes turn piercingly cold as she glares at Gabriel’s smiling face. “It seems a shame to bring such a talented young man down to your level. Such a waste. But that’s all you know how to do. Isn’t it?” The smile returns as Gabriel’s face falls. Satisfied, she turns on her heel and walks over in the direction of Zachariah.

“Gabriel,” Sam begins, trying to draw Gabriel’s gaze, but his eyes keep darting away. “I’m, I’m sorry-”

“No time kiddo,” Gabriel interrupts, as he grabs hold of Sam’s hand and gives it a small squeeze. He finally meets Sam’s eyes for a fraction of a second before his eyes dart away again. Sam sees a deep sadness there and his heart aches at the sight of it. Gabriel looks back at him. The barest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he reaches up on tiptoes and uses his other hand to grab hold of Sam’s chin, directing it up and over to where Naomi is conspiring with Zachariah. As she speaks, Zachariah’s eyes narrow and he finally, _finally_ looks over at Sam’s work.

“The shit hath hiteth the fan...ith.” Gabriel quotes.

When he lets go of Sam’s chin, Sam turns to face him. Gabriel doesn’t look away, he just smiles a small smile that Sam finds easy to return. The sadness is still there, but there’s a solid determination present too. Despite the shit storm that’s bearing down on them, Sam feels the pressure in his chest finally melt away as Gabriel reaches up and strokes his fingertips over the side of Sam’s face. “I got you kiddo.”

~~~

Gabriel lets go of Sam’s hand and steps forward to intercept, a bright smile on his face. Zachariah regards him like he’s something filthy he just scraped off his shoe, before pushing him out of the way with one finger.

“Aw now Zachy, don’t be like that,” Gabriel says in a sing song voice. “Can’t we all just get along.”

Zachariah completely disregards him, like he’s not worthy of the breath it would take to pass comment. He steps up to Sam’s display and runs his eyes over Sam’s work, disgust clearly written on his features. Sam clenches his jaw, but he holds his tongue for now. He’s still aware of the people surrounding them and feels a duty to keep the situation from escalating. Not for the sake of this arrogant douche, but for Ellen’s sake. The last thing she needs is for this to descend into a major altercation.

His gaze flicks over to Dean, who’s watching warily. Their eyes meet and Dean gives him a questioning look. Despite their falling out, he knows his brother will have his back. Sam just needs to say the word and Dean will step up. But hell, the last thing they need here is a bar room brawl, so Sam just shakes him head. Dean raises his eyebrows _you’re sure_? Sam nods his head. Pressing his lips together, Dean returns the nod, but stays exactly where he is, clearly intent on keeping an eye on the situation, clearly determined to watch over his baby brother.

Sam sighs and looks away. If he’s honest, knowing the back up is there is pretty damn reassuring. He searches out Ellen in the crowd; she’s been waylaid again. It looks like a guest might be complaining that the prosecco has run out. She gives the man a small tight smile and heads out of the hall to restock. _Shit_, no hope of rescue from that corner.

Sam turns his attention to Gabriel. For once he’s holding his tongue also, standing a few steps from Zachariah with his arms crossed over his chest. Sam can clearly see his amusement though, his lips keep on twitching like he’s desperately trying not to laugh at the expressions on Zachariah’s face as the man turns his attention to the piece de resistance. Gabriel catches Sam’s gaze and his eyebrows do a little dance, as a dirty smirk streches across his features. Sam tries his very best to stifle his laugh, but it escapes anyway, as a rather undignified choked off snort.

At the sound, Zachariah’s gaze flick over to him and he shoots Sam a disdainful look before returning his attention to Sam’s work.

Eyes still fixed on Sam’s drawing, Zachariah finally deigns to pass comment. “This isn’t art, it’s filth... pure unadulterated pornography.”

Well, that was expected. Sam opens his mouth to reply, but Gabriel bursts into raucous laughter, drawing Zachariah’s attention.

“You would know a thing or two about pornography though, wouldn’t you?” Zachariah sneers at him, a disturbing smile stretching his mouth as Gabriel’s laughter stops abruptly, an odd look passing over his features. Sam doesn’t have time to analyze it, as Zachariah’s attention is suddenly back on him.

“Sam, Sam, Sam. When you joined the class, I thought ‘here’s a kid with so much potential.’”

Sam really wishes Zachariah would go back to grimacing, because this facsimilie of smile is all sorts of unsettling.

“But you let yourself be led astray.” Zachariah pauses and chuckles to himself. “Honestly, I can’t fathom how he did it. Tell me Sam, what could you possibily see that would pursuade you to debase yourself with someone like that?”

Every muscle in Sam’s body becomes tense, heat rushing through his veins as he feels the fury encoil itself from the pit of his body. He takes a step forward, hand clenching into a fist at his side.

Zachariah’s face twists into a thoroughly unpleasant smirk. “I think that would be... ill-advised.”

And hell, Sam knows that’s the case. Zachariah and his acquaintances clearly have a whole lot of money and with that tends to come a whole lot of power over people. Sam is sorely tempted to screw the consequences, to give in to his anger. It might just be worth it, to wipe that smug look from his face.

But Gabriel is suddenly there beside him, taking hold of his wrist and rubbing soothing circles over his pulse point with his thumb. Sam lets out a long breath through his nose and wills his muscles to relax, his hand to unclench. This piece of shit just isn’t worth it, not worth losing his place on the course.

“Okay, look. This all stopped being fun five minutes ago.” Gabriel eyes Zachariah with a cold, but determined intensity. “You’ve made your point. I’m nothing but a floozy with stunning good looks and an ass to write home about. Now run along over to those brownnosing ass-lickers. I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to stroke your ego...” Gabriel purses his lips and Sam knows the moment he decides to push it too far. His lips quirk upwards and unable to help himself he adds, “... and maybe something else if you’re lucky.”

Zachariah’s eyes narrow as he regards Gabriel with cold contempt. “Do you know what your sin is Gabriel?”

Gabriel snorts out a laugh and shares an amused look with Sam. “Did he just... quote Joss Whedon at me?” he says in a voice low enough that only Sam can hear, before turning back to face Zachariah, who’s watching him with impatience.

Gabriel clears his throat before replying with a drawl, “Ah Hell... I'm a fan of all seven.”

Sam feels a chill run through his body as the contemptuous smile returns to Zachariah’s face.

“Clearly,” Zachariah smirks, running an assessing gaze over Gabriel’s form. “Gluttony,” he looks pointedly at the softness of Gabriel’s belly. The corners of Gabriel’s mouth draw downwards and Sam once more feels a very strong urge to punch him out. “Lust,” his face twists into one of revoltion as he looks over at the images of Gabriel pleasuring himself on the wall. “Sloth, most definitely. And I never understood why you still had any of this left... but Pride, certainly.” He looks back at Gabriel and raises a finger. “Oh, but I wasn’t talking of any of those. I’m talking about Greed.”

Gabriel snorts and rolls his eyes. Zachariah chuckles to himself before he continues. “Oh you may scoff, but it’s part of your nature. You see something you want and you just take, take, take. No thought about the consequences, no thought about those you corrupt with your vile libidinous nature. Look what you’ve brought him to? You took one look at this God given talent and you debased it, you dragged him down into the dirt with you, until he was just as worthless and tainted as you are.”

Everything happens at once. Gabriel suddenly tenses beside him and Sam doesn’t have much warning before he’s lunging at Zachariah. Golden eyes alight with fury he snarls, “Shut your cakehole...” It takes Sam a surprising amount of strength to hold him back.

Dean’s finally seen enough. As Gabriel lunges, he yells out, “Hey dickbag! You call my brother worthless one more time and I’ll break both your legs...” as he stomps over, circling around to position himself to the right of Sam and Gabriel.

And Charlie... She’s doesn’t quite go as far as kicking Zachariah in the shins, but she steps up at Sam’s other side.

“Gabriel, no!” Sam cries as he holds a struggling Gabriel back. His eyes flick over to Dean. _Stand down._ “He’s not worth it.”

The hall is silent. Sam had barely noticed as conversation had gradually petered out, heads turning as tensions rose. Now he notices. All that can be heard are the sounds of Gabriel’s ragged breaths.

“Isn’t this cute,” Zachariah scans his eyes over them and chuckles, “Looks like you’ve got your very own Scooby gang Gabriel. Such a ragtag bunch of misfits and miscreants.”

“Guess that makes you the big bad,” Gabriel snorts, finally finding his composure, “Public enemy numero uno.”

Zachariah just tilts back his head and laughs.

“The really evil ones always need a special sword,” Charlie hisses in Sam’s ear. Well he doesn’t exactly have the sword of Gryffindor lying around, but with his friends, his _family_ at his back, he’s sure he’ll do ok.

“You are so full of shit,” Sam begins. Zachariah eyes him with clear amusement, but doesn’t say a word. “You really think he brings me down? Honestly, you haven’t got a clue. Before I met him, I was all kinds of messed up.”

Sam purses his lips, the last thing he wants to do is bring up the past, reveal all his inner demons to this vile man. But... “Look, I’m far from perfect. I’m already tainted. But christ I’m human. No one’s perfect. We all make mistakes. He taught me that.”

Sam looks down at Gabriel, who’s regarding him with wide eyes. “I was torturing myself and he... he lifted me up.” Sam doesn’t miss the way Gabriel’s breath hitches. He gives him a small smile, before turning his attention back to Zachariah. Zachariah isn’t smiling anymore. He’s regarding Sam with an incredulous look on his face.

“I didn’t think I could ever love someone again,” Sam’s voice cracks and he has to clear his throat to continue, “I lost someone... and it was my fault... Well she wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me, so I guess that makes me guilty.” Sam feels Gabriel grab hold of his hand and squeeze tightly, but he doesn’t look away from Zachariah’s impassive gaze.

“Dude that’s bullshit,” Dean interjects. Sam’s eyes flick over to his brother, who’s looking at him with worry etched on his features. “It wasn’t your fault Sam. How could that have been your fault.”

“He’s right bucko,” Gabriel adds in a small, sad voice.

Sam just shakes his head and turns back to Zachariah, who’s lip is curled in irritation.

“Look, the thing is. Without Gabriel, I’d still be wallowing in my own self pity. Without him I’d be lost. He’s not worthless. He’s worth at least 10 of you,” Sam says with conviction. “And I love him. I love him more than I have ever loved another person...”

Sam trails off. He doesn’t know what else he can say.

Zachariah’s eyes narrow as he regards Sam with undisguised disgust. “You think that’s love?" His eyes flick up to Sam’s artwork, before settling on Sam again, “It’s a perversion.”

“Get out.”

Sam startles at the sound. He was so focused on Zachariah that he didn’t notice Ellen return to the room. They all watch as Zachariah rolls his eyes and turns to face her.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, don’t you?” Her voice is level, but her eyes are burning with fury.

“Really? This is really the way you want this to play out? Let me stop you, before you make a mistake that could have certain... unpleasant consequences for your career.”

Sam can’t see Zachariah’s face, but he finds he can easily picture the sneer on his face. Ellen however, is utterly unconcerned.

“That line might have worked a long time ago Zachariah, but your threats don’t much impress me. This is my exhibition and I will not tolerate your bigotry directed towards any of my students or models. Do you hear me?”

“You’re really willing to defend these flannel-wearing maggots? Really willing to stake your position at this University on the whims of that perverted little-”

“I would choose you’re words more carefully Zachariah,” Ellen arches an eyebrow at him, “You’re connections may still afford you some sway, but this University has some pretty damn clear policies with regards to discrimination and abuse on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation...”

There are a few nods and a couple of shouts of assent from the room. Charlie smiles and mouths _hell yeah_ beside him. But Zachariah’s crowd are clearly with him. Several are shaking their heads, exchanging whispers, eyeing Ellen with overt hostility. Naomi is watching closely, an icy expression on her face. Seeing it makes Sam instantly feel uneasy.

“The last person you want as your enemy is me,” Zachariah interrupts. He turns to narrow his eyes at Sam and Gabriel, before returning his focus to a thoroughly unimpressed Ellen. “I think you’ll find, I can be some what... petty.”

Ellen sighs heavily, clearly done with his bullshit. “Go home Zachariah, before I’m tempted to open up a can of whoop-ass on you.”

At that, both Gabriel and Dean snort out equally inelegant laughs, Charlie whoops out a cheer and someone starts off a smattering of applause. Zachariah looks them over once more, before striding over to the door way, face red with anger and perhaps a little humiliation.

“Man, what a heavyweight douchenozzle,” Dean exclaims to the gathered group once Zachariah has stormed out of the room, Naomi and his minions trailing in his wake.

Gabriel snorts out another laugh before raising both eyebrows at Dean and giving a low whistle, “You got no idea, bucko. In the time-honored words of those plucky Canadian rock-philiosophers ‘You aint seen nothing yet’.”

Dean makes a face. “Dude, Bachman-Turner Overdrive?... Seriously?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo that happened. Big bad firmly established. Sam and Gabriel are doing just fine. 
> 
> I know I said something about this being the penultimate chapter, but it was just getting way too long and some overdue exposition was needed. So there's a little more to go than I originally anticipated. That's written, so I'll put it out there as soon as I complete the happy/porny ending (possibly two chapters long). Also going to do a little tidy up of the earlier chapters as I noticed a few mistakes when I was looking over them again. No actual changes though, so no need to reread unless you really want to enjoy the smut again... I'll leave that up to you ;)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mention of historical homophobic violence towards a major character (non graphic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy exposition Batman

Sam takes another bite of the profiterole and makes a face. “No, the brownie bites are definitely better.”

“But the profiteroles are way more fun to eat,” Gabriel states before making a display of sucking a cream covered finger into his mouth and moaning appreciatively.

Sam coughs and splutters as a piece of brownie bite tries to lodge itself in his throat. Charlie thumps him on the back and he manages to swallow it down.

“Dudes, you do realise I’m still here? Not that I don’t respect the art of dessert play... there are times, there are places.”

“Ah sorry Charlie,” Sam says, feeling slightly mortified when Gabriel continues to moan, a somewhat devious smirk on his face.

“Dude,” Sam raises an eyebrow at Gabriel and nudges him in the side. “Plenty of time for that later.”

Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows in return, but thankfully takes it down a notch. They stand side by side, propped up against the buffet table and watch the remaining guests making their way around the exhibition, chatting and generally enjoying a much more chilled atmosphere. Ellen has taken over Sam’s place. Sam had tried to object. After all, she’s been through enough too, but Ellen was pretty determined and Sam was far too exhausted and wrung out to argue. Cas had returned not long after the show down was over and disappeared again shortly afterwards. Dean had mysteriously disappeared at pretty much the same time. It didn’t take a genius to work out what was going on with that one.

Sam is pretty keen to pull a disappearing act of his own. Gabriel is pressed against one side of him, seemingly unwilling to leave any separation between them, and the heat radiating from his body, the brush of shoulder and thigh any time he moves... are doing things to Sam. Things that could get embarassing if left unchecked for too long.

Charlie blows out a breath from between her lips. “Gabriel... why does Zachariah hate you so much?” she asks tentatively.

Good question. Sam has been wondering the same thing, but he's been hestitant to bring it up. Clearly Zachariah is a homophobic bigot, sure the paintings had ruffled his feathers. But what he said... it sounded way more personal than that. Naomi too. Gabriel had later explained the two were married, but said nothing more on the matter. Then there was the business with Luke. What was that all about? There’s definitely a story here, but the last thing Sam wants to do is pry. If Gabriel wants to tell him in his own time, Sam figures he will.

Of course since Charlie asked... Sam listens with baited breath as Gabriel pauses. He leans forward a little to look at Charlie directly, a serious expression on his face.

“I fucked his wife,” Gabriel states in a dry monotone, before leaning back and returning to his plate of treats.

Sam feels his eyebrows raise almost to his hairline. _Shit, seriously_? He wouldn’t exactly put it past Gabriel... but he has to be joking, surely.

“You’re fraking kidding me!” Charlie exclaims with an incredulous look on her face. “I mean she’s hot enough, but I’d kind of assumed she was made of a mimetic polyalloy. How is that even possible?” She makes a face. “Though I suppose it gives a whole new meaning to the word... flexible... Wait, you’re not serious are you?” Charlie pushes off the table and scrutinises Gabriel’s impassive expression.

Sam turns and watches his face closely too. It doesn’t take long before Gabriel folds under the intense scrutiny, the corner of his lip starting to twitch before he descends into uncontrolled laughter.

“Your... faces,” Gabriel finally chokes out, in between snorts and giggles.

Charlie shoots him an unimpressed look, but the corners of her mouth soon twist up into smile. After a moment she glances over at her station, where a young couple are perusing her work, nodding appreciatively.

“Duty calls,” She says, “And not in the super fun FSP sense. Smell ya later bitches.” She shoots them a vulcan salute before heading over to engage with the interested parties.

Sam sighs and opens his mouth to ask the question he swore he wouldn’t ask, because now he can’t help it. Some part of him really needs to know. But before he can utter a word, Gabriel beats him to it.

“It’s not just me... It’s my whole damn family,” Gabriel starts. His eyes flick over to Sam’s before he looks straight ahead again. “You know I told you about Cassie? How he had a hard time, way back in the yester year?” Sam nods and brushes his hand against Gabriel’s. Gabriel sighs and threads their fingers together. “Cassie made the mistake of coming out to the wrong schmuck. Thought their friendship meant more...” Gabriel pauses, eyes suddenly bright with anger. “That S.O.B. made his life hell. But he also made sure Luke and I were none the wiser. Well, guess what? One day he made a mistake, left a bruise where it couldn’t be hidden. Luke found out.”

Sam draws in breath. Shit. That was... “What did he do?” Sam sure as hell knows what Dean would do in Luke’s situation.

Gabriel glances at Sam, lips pursed. “Broke the kids arm in two places.” Sam nods. While Sam tries his very best not to condone violence... There are certain circumstances where it’s pretty damn understandable. Gabriel turns back to face the wall, clearly satisfied by Sam’s response.

“Of course Zachy and Naomi weren’t exactly thrilled with what happened to their dear little angel. He tried to get Luke expelled, the school happily obliged, but for her... that wasn’t punishment enough.”

Gabriel tenses and Sam rubs a reassuring thumb over the back of his hand until he relaxes a fraction.

“She tried to have him committed,” Gabriel says at length. Sam winces, hell if ever there was a dick move... Gabriel sighs. “Didn’t work, but Naomi’s got connections. He did a short stretch in juvie. Couldn’t take being locked up like that. Never was the same.”

“Shit, that’s... I’m sorry,” Sam doesn’t know what to say. Of course it’s pretty clear Luke has issues, but this? _Hell_, no wonder he freaked out.

“Never thought she would turn up. She never bothered before.” Gabriel shrugs his shoulders. “Any old how. Ever since then, it’s been like the Hunger Games, but with less kick ass brunettes. Cassie gets a scholarship that disappears. I get a graduate place, then suddenly, hoo boy am I not an appropriate candidate for the position. Something about the reputation of the University...”

Sam raises his eyebrows at that. He had no idea Gabriel wanted to pursue graduate studies. Gabriel never talked about his degree, he hadn't even told him what field it was in... The whole thing seems incredibly underhanded. How the hell did Naomi swing all of this? Gabriel’s mouthy and a little off the wall, but surely there was a case to be made for discrimination.

Despite Sam’s questioning look, Gabriel doesn’t elaborate. “I finally had enough of their B.S., so I pulled a Veronica Mars on their asses. Couldn’t find anything on her. But him... There were certain financial irregularities in his department. Wasn’t enough to send his ass to Azkaban, but the University decided to let him go. Golden handshake of course.”

Gabriel blows out a breath. “And that’s the long and short of this whole sticky mess.” He pauses and purses his lips. “Oh and there was that little issue with Eve.”

“Who’s Eve?” Sam asks, head spinning with this tidal wave of new information. So much was beginning to make sense, and yet he had more questions than ever before.

“Oh, just their lesbian daughter who I helped get out from under their puritanical douchbaggery.” Gabriel chuckles. “They actually thought I was fucking her at first. Apparently me rubbing my gay off on her was way worse.”

“Dude, seriously?” Sam says scrunching his face up in disbelief.

“What can I say? I’m just that influential. Corrupting the innocent. Turning girls gay with a wave of my magical rainbow wand.”

Sam snorts out a laugh and they lapse into a companionable silence. He watches as a lavishly dressed petite redhead moves from station to station, tilting her head and eyeing the pieces critically, making the odd comment before pressing on. She arrived some moments ago, on the arm of a younger man, who is equally well dressed in an expensive looking, dark grey suit. Either they aren’t together-together, or they’re in a somewhat flexible relationship, as he seems utterly unconcerned by the flirtatious advances the woman has made with several men since her arrival.

“You know I wouldn’t just leave you like that,” Gabriel says unexpectedly. Sam blinks and turns to face him. “Earlier... You looked like a goddamn kicked puppy... I would have... But I was pissed. And so I couldn’t. Then you looked shocked when I came over. Like you never expected...” Gabriel trails off and Sam feels his face flush.

He looks away and swallows, watches as the woman moves on to view his work. She stands back and takes a good long look at each piece, making appreciative noises as her eye trails over the images of Gabriel’s naked form.

Sam bites his lip. “The way you looked... I didn’t mean to hurt you like that Gabriel.” Gabriel squeezes his hand, but Sam can’t quite turn to face him. “I was stressed and I lashed out and I thought...” Sam frowns. “I thought maybe I’d screwed things up between us. Maybe you wouldn’t want this anymore...”

Gabriel gives a low whistle, “Sam that it the biggest load of horse shit I ever heard.” Sam looks across at him. He tries to keep the hurt from his features, but Gabriel sees it anyway. He purses his lips. “Enough with the puppy dog eyes. Yeesh, you employ those every time we have an argument and I don’t stand a chance... We’re gonna argue Sam. Remember, I’m an asshole. And you... you can be a grade A bitch when you put your mind to it.” His fond smile takes the sting out of the statement.

“Fergus, Fergus!” They both get momentarily distracted as the Redhead calls over to her companion loudly, with a lyrical Scottish brogue. “You simply must see these.”

“Yes mother. They can hear you from the next damn state. No need to yell.” The man’s accent is also British, but with a rough, English sounding lilt.

Well that answers that question. She doesn’t look quite old enough to be his mother, having a rather timeless quality about her, but certainly the edge of irritation in the man’s voice would rather confirm the relationship. Great genetics? Or the man is younger than his general posture and air of confidence would suggest.

Sam and Gabriel share an amused smile before Gabriel continues. “We’re gonna argue. You can’t keep thinking the damn apocalypse is nigh. Don’t know who got you thinking like that. But we ever meet? Full on Liam Neeson. I swear.” Sam laughs at Gabriel’s raised eyebrow and mock dangerous expression.

“Keep you well clear of my ex girlfriend, duly noted,” Sam smirks.

“So it’s a girl? I’m taking notes.”

Sam shakes his head, but can’t help smiling. He looks over at the man and woman who are now viewing his work together. The man strokes the dark stubble on his chin as he casts an assessing eye over Sam’s work. The woman looks casually about while she waits, eyes catching onto Gabriel’s familiar visage. She eyes him up and down, running her tongue over her red painted lower lip, clearly liking what she sees. Gabriel would normally revel in the flattery of a bit of flirting, but for whatever reason, he’s keen to make it obvious where his affections lie. Raising one eyebrow in her direction, he shuffles closer to Sam, pressing firmly against his side and leaning in to plant a kiss on Sam’s jaw.

The woman doesn’t seem entirely put off, but giving Gabriel one more hungry gaze, she turns her attention back to the work on display.

“Sam, you want rid of me, you’re gonna have to try a whole lot harder.”

Gabriel doesn’t pull back at all. Seemingly forgetting about Ellen’s earlier warnings, he spends a good long moment nuzzling into Sam’s neck, making Sam’s pulse rate surge and his blood start to make it’s way rapidly in a southerly direction. Ellen shoots Gabriel an exasperated look, but says nothing as she’s momentarily called upon to field questions from the man in the expensive suit.

Sam clears his throat. Gabriel huffs out an annoyed breath against the sensitive skin of Sam’s neck, sending a pleasant shiver down Sam’s spine, but he does draw back, albeit reluctantly.

Sam rubs a thumb over the side of Gabriel’s hand. He desperately wants to pull Gabriel into his embrace, bury his fingers in his hair and kiss him deeply. Hell he wants to sweep the remains of the buffet onto the floor and take Gabriel on this very table. But apparently such things are frowned upon in the middle of a public art exhibition.

“What, that giant moose over there?”

Sam flicks his eyes up and sees that the man is looking directly at him, eyes assessing.

“Interesting,” he says at length, drawing the word out as he looks from Sam, to Gabriel, and back again. After another long moment he turns back to Ellen and engages her in further discussion that Sam can’t quite make out.

“Moose,” Gabriel chuckles. “Ooh I like it. Come take me to bed, you giant Moose of a man... Ooh ooh, let me ride you Moose.”

Sam just rolls his eyes and looks down at his watch. The exhibition is finally, finally drawing to a close. Just a few more scant minutes, a bit of clear up and they’re done. And maybe if Sam employs his puppy dog eyes, Ellen will let them skip the clear up. It would be a bit of a dick move, but lack of sleep and this whole merry shit storm of an exhibition, have left him feeling pretty wiped.

“You know it’s a pity we made up,” Gabriel says as he checks out his own wrist watch. Sam quirks a confused eyebrow at him. “Angry sex is way up there on the Fucket list.” Sam shoots him a bitchface. “Oh yeah, just like that. Angry Moose sex coming right up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched 'Bad, Bad Men' a few weeks ago and really couldn't help myself. 
> 
> Also, poor Cas. No wonder he didn't want to make the first move. Just as well Sam intervened or those two kooky kids would have never gotten it together. 
> 
> Soooo Luke. I didn't really want to go full on psychotic with him, but for him to act the way he does in this fic, he had to be seriously troubled. There's a little bit more to the Novak's story of course, but I guess I wanted to explain here why Luke and Gabriel's relationship is a lot better than it is in the show. While I'm sure he will have pulled some crazy shit, he really is the victim to a certain extent. Think of him as the softer, fluffier side of Lucifer, but still a great big bag of dicks...
> 
> That brings me to the happy ending... Yeah we're talking a couple of chapters, because the path of sexy fun time never quite runs smoothly for these two. No more full on angst though, at least not in this fic, just a lot of silly sexiness.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep so... as I said in the notes at the end of the last chapter, the course of their sexy times never does seem to run smoothly... hence the 2 chapters... hence the utter crack that I appear to have produced here. Hope you enjoy!

Sam pushes Gabriel up against the side of the building with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

“Woah... woah... woah... there Moose-boy...” Gabriel chokes out. “Little gentler with the goods. Oh who am I kidding.” He roughly pulls at Sam’s neck as he stretches up onto his tip toes.“...Little help here kiddo.”

Sam grabs hold of him and lifts him up, bracing him against the wall as Gabriel wraps his legs around Sam’s waist, ankles crossed once more in the small of Sam’s back.

“Fuck yeah,” Gabriel exclaims at the exact same time as Sam breathes out, “_Gabriel_.”

They lean forward at the same time, narrowly avoiding headbutting each other, but definitely _not_ avoiding crashing their noses together. Sam blinks a little at the sting. Gabriel makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and grabs hold of Sam’s head, angling it just right as he tilts his own head. Sam’s nose still kind of stings, Gabriel’s nose is goddamn pointy, but all too soon he forgets all about it as Gabriel opens his mouth and dives right in. Sam groans as Gabriel practically devours his mouth.

Gabriel is such a damn good kisser. Mobile, clever lips; filthy, pornographic tongue. Sam likes the slow kisses best, when Gabriel takes his time to tease, to nip at Sam’s lower lip with his teeth, to explore with the tip of his tongue... But he really can’t complain about Gabriel’s desperate, needy kisses either. Gabriel makes the most amazing sounds as he ravishes Sam’s mouth, like the answers to everything he ever dreamed of can be found in the touch of Sam’s lips and tongue.

Gabriel’s hands are in Sam’s hair again, running his fingers through, before grabbing hold and pulling just hard enough to stimulate, but not hard enough to really hurt. Sam really wants to feel the silky strands of Gabriel’s hair, but he’s still holding him in place. Carefully, he raises one thigh to provide extra support and tentatively loosens the grip of his right hand. Feeling Sam’s thigh against him, Gabriel immediately start to grind against it, groaning into Sam’s mouth. _Fuck_. Sam has to quickly grab hold of Gabriel’s stuttering hip as he feels their balance wavering. He can feel Gabriel’s hard length against him and the sensation is sending a pretty enticing message to his own dick.

_Christ_, Sam isn’t going to last long like this, with Gabriel rutting against his thigh and making pornographic sounds into his mouth. He really doesn’t want to walk home with come sticking the fabric of his jeans to his skin... But for now... For now, there’s no way he can stop doing this.

Eventually they surface for air, Gabriel’s breath heavy against his cheek. Gabriel stills the motion of his hips momentarily, as they catch their breaths, and Sam takes the opportunity to let go with his right hand and move it up into Gabriel’s hair, burying his fingers in the soft curls at the back of Gabriel’s neck. Gabriel moans at the sensation and nuzzles into the side of his face before pulling back a little to regard Sam with pupils blown wide, only a thin edge of gold encircling them.

“Fuck Sam, I missed you,” Gabriel breathes out, running his tongue over his kiss swollen lower lip.

Sam opens his mouth to reply, but Gabriel surges forward again, crushing their mouths together almost painfully and searching out Sam’s tongue with his own, grinding forward with renewed vigor. As Gabriel stutters his hips, Sam has to quickly adjust his grip as the motion threatens to send them both crashing to the ground. Satisfied that they’re braced as well as they’re going to be, Sam lets the sensations wash over him, revelling in the feel of Gabriel’s arousal against his thigh, the desperate grasp of Gabriel’s hands in his hair, the heat of his body through the thin fabric of his cargo jacket and plaid shirt. And his mouth. Shit, Sam’s no writer, but he could write damn sonnets dedicated to Gabriel’s clever lips and wicked tongue.

They can’t stay like this forever, a small part of him realises that, realises that eventually the rest of the class will be done with tidy up and will be making their way outside. He’s even vaguely aware that they’re kind of exposed out here. The sky is only just darkening, and the campus isn’t exactly deserted. It’s cold out and Gabriel’s choice of clothing is completely inadequate for early December temperatures... He loses his train of thought completely as Gabriel gasps into his mouth and pulls sharply on Sam’s hair. Fuck Gabriel is actually going to come any minute now, just from rutting up against Sam’s thigh, just from-

“Uh Gabriel?”

Sam freezes at the sudden sound of an unfamiliar voice, male and slightly squeaky. Though the squeakiness may have something to do with what the man has just witnessed. _Shit_. Just how long have they been here? It seems like mere moments and at the same time it seems like hours. _Christ_.

Gabriel grinds once more against Sam’s leg, making a soft _uh uh_ at the back of his throat, before his mind finally catches up with his ears and he stills also, reluctantly pulling back from devouring Sam’s mouth with an annoyed huff. Sam just stares wide eyed at Gabriel, not knowing what the hell to do. It’s not like they can actually pretend they were doing anything but the obvious.

“Ah guys?” the voice comes again, sounding hesitant and more than a little flustered.

Gabriel shoots Sam a little smirk before leaning his head to the side, in order to see past him. Sam extracts his hand from Gabriel’s curls, his fingers getting a little tangled in them on the way, and places a steadying hand back on his hip.

“Oh hey Chuck!” Gabriel exclaims, waving his hand and smiling. Acting for all the world like they’re just passing each other on the street. Like isn't currently braced against a wall, with his legs wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist and his hard cock pressed against said boyfriend’s thigh.

Gabriel makes a little tutting sound in the back of his throat. “Where have my manners gotten to? Chuck, Sam,” he lets go of Sam’s hair and motions with a wave of his hand and a tilt of his chin. “Sam, Chuck.” Sam just stares at him, bewildered, until Gabriel grabs hold of his face and turns it round, craning his neck kind of painfully.

“Uh,” Sam tries, but words utterly fail him, so he attempts an awkward smile that he isn’t sure he’s achieved either, while his cheeks flame bright red. The man, Chuck, looks equally embarassed. He meets Sam’s eyes for the briefest of moments, lips twitching into a half formed smile, before his eyes dart away.

He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh... just so’s you know... They’re almost finished in there... And you guys aren’t exactly...” he clears his throat again. “Um... you aren’t exactly... um... hidden from view.” He points to the meagre covering of shrubbery between them. “Uh and not exactly... quiet.”

“Uh,” Sam tries again, “um... thanks.” He stutters it out, before turning away, clenching his eyes shut and burying his face in the juncture between Gabriel’s neck and shoulder, feeling his whole body flush with embarassment.

Gabriel just chuckles softly and pets Sam’s hair, apparently completely unflustered by the situation.

Sam is just about to lower Gabriel to the ground, when he hears an almighty shriek. _Christ no_. Sam squeezes his eyes shut again and wills the world to just fucking disappear as Gabriel cheerfully exclaims, “Becky!”

~~~

“It was a little bit funny.”

Sam turns his attention away from the lock that his shaking hands can’t quite insert a goddamn key into, and shoots Gabriel a bitchface, because _seriously_?

Gabriel chuckles and raises his eyebrows. “I’m not gonna stop until you admit it,” he smirks.

Sam just stares at him. _Christ_, does he have to look so fuckable right now? Hair all mussed up, with the front fallen partially over his right eye and an errant lock curving over his forehead. Curls all tangled up at the back. The dim streetlamps are lighting up the golden strands and illuminating his eyes. His clothes are all rumpled, a couple of buttons undone at the neck of his shirt. Sam’s barely holding it together and he’s certainly not capable of speech. He thinks idly of pulling Gabriel into another kiss, just to shut him up, but Sam’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to actually stop and he can’t exactly fuck Gabriel up against the side of his apartment building. Besides, despite his amusement, Sam can see that Gabriel is shivering and the tip of his nose has long since turned pink.

Sam turns his attention back to the door. Why won’t this key just go in the damn lock?

“Here let me,” Gabriel says with a soft chuckle, as he steps right into Sam’s personal space and extracts the key from Sam’s shaking hand.

Sam can’t help it, he really can’t. Not with Gabriel in such close proximity, not with that head of messy hair right below him. He leans forward a fraction and dips his head a little, inhaling the scent of Gabriel’s Strawberries and Cream shampoo, hoping against hope that Gabriel won’t notice... But of course he does. Finally inserting the key in the lock, Gabriel tilts his head backwards and looks up at Sam with a knowing expression on his face.

“Did you just... sniff me?” he asks, a playful smirk quirking his lips upwards.

Pulling his most innocent, puppy dog face, Sam says, “No, no I didn’t. Why would I do that? That would be weird.” He crosses his arms across his chest and looks away, cheeks flushing a little in embarassment.

Gabriel snorts out a laugh. “Oh Sam, I am so not complaining.” He grabs hold of the lapels of Sam’s open coat and pulls him down a little while rising onto the balls of his feet and burying his face in Sam’s neck. He makes a show of inhaling deeping, cold nose tickling Sam’s neck, and making appreciative sounds.

Someone across the street wolf whistles and another shouts “Get a room.” Sam squeezes his eyes tight, cheeks flushing a deeper red as Gabriel chuckles and licks a stripe over Sam’s pulse point before drawing back. _Fuck_. Sam’s jeans are getting uncomfortably tight. He needs to get inside the building and up to his room, right the fuck now.

His room... _shit_. His room where one wall is plastered with sketches of Gabriel, sporting magnificent Angel wings and... and in some, with Sam’s dick up his ass.

As Gabriel closes the apartment building door behind them and starts walking up the hallway at a rapid rate, Sam grabs hold of his arm to stop him.

Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows. “In the hallway?... Kinky... Hells, why not?” Gabriel is grabbing hold of Sam’s coat again and dragging him over to the wall, the other hand reaching down to unbutton Sam’s jeans.

“Wait!” Sam cries. Gabriel pouts a little, but he stills his motions, eyebrows raised in question. “I ah... I um... I have something I need to talk to you about.”

~~~

“Woah woah woah... Let me get this straight... For your senior project... you want to paint a giant panel of me as the Archangel Gabriel... Messenger of God... With you... fucking me up the ass?” Gabriel raises both eyebrows and regards him with wide eyes.

_Uh... when you put it like that? It sounds like a whole new level of crazy_. Sam winces, but nods his head.

Gabriel gives a long low whistle and puts his hands in his pockets, taking a few steps along the corridor and then back again.

Sam scrunches up his face and shakes his head. This was a bad, bad idea. What the hell had he been thinking?

Gabriel stops a few paces away from of him and draws his brows together. “Me? An Angel?”

He takes his hands out of his pocket and fiddles with the end of his sleeve. Sam can just see the edge of a black leather cuff, presumably the one he was wearing the night of the epic karaoke showdown with Balthazar. He’s curious, but now’s not the time to ask.

“I aint exactly the picture of virtue,” Gabriel says at length, lips drawing down into a small frown.

“I wouldn’t want you to be Gabe. That not... that’s not exactly what this is about. I... Look today, Zachariah, he looked down on you, on our relationship like it was something... Wrong... Disgusting. But it’s not. It’s not like that at all.” Sam pauses and studies Gabriel’s face. His brow is still furrowed, but he doesn’t seem completely disturbed by the idea. “Gabe, you’re... you’re amazing. I want everyone to see you the way I do... To look at our relationship and see something strong and beautiful and... Well there was this whole mixing of mythologies with Eros... You’re name... I just thought...” Sam trails off, suddenly unsure of himself.

Gabriel just stares at him, mouth hanging open for a moment before he presses his lips together. He raises one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twisting up on the same side of his face. “You know... not every one will see it that way kiddo?”

Sam purses his lips and lets out a sigh, running his hands back through his hair. “I know... it’s just... I have to try. And those who don’t... Well I guess they’ll pretty much show everyone a side of them that’s not... so pretty.”

“You want to piss people off,” Gabriel says, lips spreading into a wide grin. “I _am_ rubbing off on you.” He makes a face. “That came out wrong.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head. “You could say that.”

Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows, making Sam snort out another laugh.

“Not deliberately... At least that’s not my exact intention, but you know...”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at him.

“Ok, ok, maybe a little. But that’s what art does. It asks questions. It provokes. It makes people think about the way they view the world. And maybe... Just maybe... it influences that world.”

Gabriel tilts his head a little and scrunches his face up in consideration for a moment before taking a step forward and regarding Sam with bright eyes.

“Then just call me Gabriel. Archangel Gabriel. Messenger of God,” he quirks an eyebrow, “Greatest lay of mankind.” He takes a theatrical bow, before standing up tall again, a wide dimpled smile streched across his face.

Sam can’t help but smile back. “You’re sure you’re ok with this?”

“Hells yeah. Bring it on... No wait a second,” He looks down his body and he makes a face. Sam furrows his brow.

“You’re not gonna have me on some salad based crash diet? Have me sweating away in some stinky gym twenty hours a day?” He makes a face again at the thought.

Sam pulls a considering expression. “Well... I think everyone could use a little more salad in their diets.” Gabriel looks scandalised and Sam is reminded again of just how alike he and actually Dean are. “But no, it would be you, just the way you are... albeit with extra,” he waves a hand in the air, “um... appendages.”

Gabriel smiles a little, before his face falls again. “We’re not talking Kevin Smith Angels are we? Because the Ken doll look? Yeesh.” He shivers, apparently unable to finish that sentence.

Sam smirks and closes the distance between them. He quirks an eyebrow before placing one hand on Gabriel’s hip and trailing the fingers of his other hand down Gabriel’s torso, headed in the direction of his groin. Gabriel draws in a breath.

“No... you would definitely be well...” he squeezes gently at Gabriel’s crotch, “...equipped.”

Gabriel makes a growling noise in the back of his throat and grabs hold of Sam’s arm, dragging him in the direction of the stairwell. They’ve delayed this thing long enough.

~~~

“Son of a bitch!”

“Baby bro! Look at you!... Up top. Come on Cassie? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“...Gabriel I am not hi-fiving you... Dean and I were...”

Sam rubs a hand over his face and wills himself to wake up from the screwed up tableau he’s just walked into because, _holy fuck_.

Castiel is leaning against the wall, looking completely wrecked. Shirt hanging open. Lips looking decidedly rosy and kiss swollen. Sam really didn’t mean to look, didn’t mean to notice... but there are dark bruises on the side of his neck and his hair is all messed up, even more than it normally is. Oh and there’s the rather unmistakable erection, tenting the fabric of his suit pants.

His brother, currently glaring daggers at both him, and especially Gabriel, who has sauntered over to give _his_ brother a hi-five of all things... well Dean is topless and there appear to be suspiciously mouth shaped bruises on his chest and... _Christ_ but Sam is really trying to make sure he doesn’t look any lower.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean yells, face turning an impressive shade of red. Of course Sam’s face had gone a pretty similar color the moment he stepped through the door.

Sam carefully keeps his eyes averted while yelling back, “In the kitchen Dean, _really_?”

“Perhaps we should... Continue this... Ah... Continue this in my apartment... Gabriel please stop that.”

“Screw that. We were here first.” Dean grabs the keys to the Impala off the counter and throws them at Sam. He fumbles them, desperately trying not to look directly at his brother. “Any stains on the back seat and I’ll gut you.”

Sam sighs, but relents. There’s no way they can can stay here. The term awkward, doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo yay Destiel! I couldn't not. Apologies for not having more Destiel in this fic, but I'm really more into writing Sabriel. I only dabble in Destiel... because, hey, that shit's cannon.
> 
> This is actually truly the penultimate chapter. The last chapter is written (it's lonnnnnnnng and oh so smutty) and I'm working on a short-ish epilogue. I'm away for the weekend, starting my part time foundation art dimploma, hooray! As such, I won't be posting the last chapter until I get back. Monday hopefully.
> 
> As for the future. Let's just say... I have plans ;-)


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Gabriel rolls his eyes. “I’m ready Gigantor. Time to do the horizontal lambada.”
> 
> Sam’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be horizontal _tango_, but he let’s it slide. “You’re sure?” he asks, furrowing his brow...
> 
> ...The condom wrapper hitting his forehead is apparently the only answer he’s going to get. Sam thinks idly, that the term ‘pushy bottom’, might have been invented entirely due to Gabriel’s bedroom manner.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so that little exchange kinda nicely sums up this chapter. Porny yes, silly yes, sappy as hell... that's definitely a yes.

Gabriel edges his hand further up Sam’s thigh, working his way slowly up to his groin...

“Stop it!” Sam grits out through clenched teeth. “We are not doing that in my brother’s car. Do you know just how dead I’ll be if I put even the slightest dent in this thing?”

Gabriel pouts, but removes his hand from Sam’s thigh and leans his head back against the seat back.

“We could-” Gabriel starts, but Sam quickly interrupts.

“I told you, we are not parking this ‘sweet ride’ while you ‘ride me’ in the back seat.”

Gabriel pouts again, but doesn’t make any more colorful suggestions.

Sam sighs and reaches a hand over to squeeze Gabriel’s knee.

“Woah woah woah, both hands on the wheel,” Gabriel yelps. Huffing out a breath when Sam returns his hand to the steering wheel, he adds, “I’m precious cargo.”

Sam snorts out a laugh, shakes his head and asks Gabriel for the next turning.

~~~

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Gabriel flings his arms out and gestures around the room.

Sam shrugs his arms out of his winter coat, while scanning his surroundings. He’s not exactly sure what he was expecting, some sort of weird funhouse or a mildly disturbing sex dungeon, but it’s actually kinda nice. The main living space is pretty tiny and cluttered, but has a homely feel to it, with a well worn, but comfortable looking easy chair in front of a modest sized tv screen and the walls lined with bookshelves and DVD storage. Sam’s heart skips a beat when his eyes land on a clearly well maintained electro acoustic guitar, propped on a stand in the corner. So Dean was right. Sam is half tempted to ask Gabriel to play something for him right here and now, but when he turns round to face him, all thoughts of Gabriel serenading him disappear.

In all the craziness, Sam somehow forgot. Forgot how freakin gorgeous Gabriel looks right now. Gabriel once called Sam sex personified, Sam’s pretty sure that phrase is a massive understatement when applied to the man in front of him. Gabriel has lost his jacket and is reaching his arm out to take Sam’s coat. Sam just chucks it in the direction of the easy chair and grabs hold of Gabriel’s arm instead, pulling him into a deep and dirty kiss.

Gabriel groans into the kiss, fumbling with the buttons on the front of Sam’s shirt. Determinedly not breaking contact in order to make the task easier. After a moment of struggling, he makes a frustrated noise and just pulls roughly at the fabric with both hands. Well there goes that shirt, Sam idly thinks at the sound of ripping fabric. A few buttons come flying off and scatter onto the floor. Sam couldn’t care less. He starts working on Gabriel’s shirt. It’s still taking far too long. He’s desperate to feel the touch of Gabriel’s bare skin. To run his hands over all that firm muscle and delicious softness. It’s Sam’s turn now to make a frustrated noise. Why are there so many goddamn buttons?

Gabriel chuckles and steps back. Sam absolutely does not make an undignified whiny noise. Gabriel raises an amused eyebrow and makes a show of slowly unbuttoning the rest of the way down, shrugging the shirt off of his narrow shoulders. Sam bites his lip as he takes in the pale planes of Gabriel’s torso, the pleasing dusting of chest hair, already pert nipples. Gabriel’s sensitive nipples harden so easily. Sam wants to kneel down in front of Gabriel and run a tongue over one of them, suck it into his mouth, maybe leave a dark bruise surrounding it, like Gabriel had done to Sam that day. But Gabriel is looking at Sam’s half open shirt pointedly, his arms crossing over his chest, an expectant look on his face.

It’s time to get with the program. Sam starts to pull off the ruined shirt. The frayed sleeve catches on his wrist watch, but he eventually manages to extract his arm. He attempts to lift off his undershirt and in his haste, somehow gets caught in that too. Christ, why does he have to get so damn clumsy under Gabriel’s gaze? How does Gabriel do this so effortlessly and sexily, when Sam’s nothing but a fumbling idiot. He can hear the sound of Gabriel giggling through the fabric of his undershirt.

“Not helping Gabe,” he grits out.

“Here hotshot, let me help you with that.”

Suddenly Gabriel is right there in his personal space again. Sam can feel the heat radiating from his naked torso as Gabriel leans up against him and attempts to ease the fabric over Sam’s head and arms.

“This would be a lot easier... if you weren’t so freakishly tall,” he huffs out with a chuckle.

Sam makes a small noise of accent. All of this would be way easier if he didn’t tower a whole head above Gabriel’s slightly shorter than average stature. But Sam kind of likes it nonetheless. Likes to wrap his arms tightly around Gabriel’s body and rest his chin on top of his messy chesnut brown and gold hair. Likes it when Gabriel rises up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Sam’s lips.

Finally, finally, the shirt comes free and Gabriel topples forward into Sam’s torso.

“Well hello there hotstuff,” Gabriel grins up at him, chin resting in the centre of Sam’s chest as he looks up at Sam with bright eyes.

“Hey there,” Sam says softly as he brushes the errant lock from Gabriel’s forehead. He cradles the back of Gabriel’s head with one hand and runs the fingers of the other hand down the side of his face. So beautiful. Gabriel’s breath hitches as Sam run’s a thumb over his cheekbone and down to trace over his lower lip.

“Bedroom,” Gabriel breathes.

Sam can only nod his head.

~~~

Sam’s suddenly nervous. There’s been such a build up to this. Weeks of sexual frustration, almost 10 whole days apart. He’s been so desperate for this moment, but now it’s here... he’s afraid. What if he messes up? What if he hurts Gabriel? What if it’s awful and awkward and Gabriel’s disappointed by him. He looks around the room as Gabriel rummages around in his bedside table, trying his best to settle his nerves.

Gabriel’s bedroom is small also, most of the space taken up by the impressively large and luxurious bed. Sam wonders for a second why Gabriel chose such a big bed, but well... that’s kind of obvious. Gabriel certainly has his priorities. Sam is glad, there might actually be space enough for him to lie outstretched, without his legs sticking several inches over the end.

Most of Gabriel’s furnishings are old and worn, maybe a little rickety in places. Here though, he’s clearly pushed the boat out. The sheets and satin throw appear to be pretty high quality and expensive, the wooden head board, made of beautifully carved and polished wooden posts. It should look over the top, but it’s surprisingly classy, not ostentacious. Sam’s eyes flick over to the far wall. Over a small, battered looking dresser, there’s a small collection of photographs pinned to the wall.

There are one or two pictures of Gabriel with his brothers and cousins, but mostly, mostly these images are of Sam. The one selfie of Gabriel and Sam together is here, but the rest, Gabriel has clearly printed from the selfies Sam has sent him on their messaging app. Sam doesn’t know whether to be flattered or mortified. There’s the picture of Sam, standing dripping wet with only a towel around his hips. There’s the bitchface Sam sent him the day after the frottage in the life painting room...

Gabriel clears his throat loudly and Sam startles. He looks over at the bed, where Gabriel is spread out, naked except for the black leather cuff and his wristwatch, propped up on his elbows and surrounded by quite a varied array of condoms and bottles of lube. Sam swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, because holy shit, is that an enticing sight. His stomach does a little flip flop and his pulse races, jeans feeling way too tight once more.

“You know this thing would go a whole lot smoother with you naked,” Gabriel drawls, raising one eyebrow at Sam’s still half dressed state.

Uh good point. Sam fumbles open his fly and starts to pull the jeans, and his boxers with them, over his hips. Gabriel just watches him, with heavily lidded eyes, his half hard cock, filling before Sam’s very eyes. Sam is oh so glad that he thought to remove his boots in the other room, because he really, really couldn’t look away right now if he tried. Kicking off his jeans and boxers is awkward and Sam stumbles, almost faceplanting on the bed. Gabriel’s lips twitch and his eyes sparkle with amusement, but for once, he doesn’t say a word.

Finally, finally, Sam is completely naked. He takes one more moment to look over Gabriel’s reclined form, cock now fully erect and curving up towards his soft belly, a rosy flush spreading its’ way down from Gabriel’s cheeks to the centre of his chest, lips slightly parted. And those eyes. Fuck those eyes. He’s the picture of perfection and Sam can’t wait to touch all that beautiful pale flesh. Sam can’t wait to nudge his way inside that perfect, tight ass, to finally feel Gabriel surrounding him completely.

He climbs onto the bed and crawls a little awkwardly until he’s hovering over Gabriel’s naked body. Gabriel spreads his legs a little wider to allow Sam the space he needs to kneel between them and lies back on his pillow.

“Soooo,” Gabriel begins picking up a couple of bottles from the bedspread, “We got Strawberry, Chocolate,” he wiggles them in front of Sam’s face before placing one bottle down and picking up another, squinting at the writing on another bottle, “Ok that’s in Japanese. I have no idea.” Sam laughs and shakes his head.

“Are all of them... flavored?” Sam asks, one eyebrow raised.

Gabriel looks at him like he’s asked a really stupid question, before making a little ‘o’ shape with his lips. “Right, first time. I forgot-”

“I’m not a virgin,” Sam interrupts, eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Evidently. But I mean, with the whole,” he drops the bottles on the bedspread and lifts one of his knees up to his chest, tilting his hips just right, and makes a circling motion just above the skin surrounding his entrance, “hole thing.” He chuckles to himself a little at the play on words and quite probably at the wide eyed look on Sam’s face. Finger still hovering over his entrance he adds, “Unless I’m very much mistaken?” He arches an eyebrow at Sam.

Sam clears his throat and opens his mouth to reply, cheeks flushing, but Gabriel holds up the forefinger of his other hand. Sam catches sight of the underside of the cuff. Embossed on the leather, just over his pulse point, almost too small to read... are the initials S.W.. Sam’s breath catches in his throat. That’s... Gabriel’s speaking again, but Sam misses most of what he says as he stares at those two little letters.

“... that was hella sneaky of you. Not that I’m complaining. Nooooo. At least you know how to find that sweet, sweet spot.” He pauses and closes his eyes, throws his head back a little, lower lip pulled into him mouth. “Hells yeah. Good times.”

He opens his eyelids and looks up at Sam with mischief sparkling in his eyes. Placing his foot back down on the bedspread, he curls a lock of pubic hair around one finger and smirks at Sam. “On a scale of one to crying your eyes out every night, just how much did you miss my pubes?”

There really is only one way to stop this.

“Go on, run your fingers through them, you know you want to- mmpph mmm...”

Sam captures Gabriel’s mobile lips in a deep and passionate kiss. Gabriel protests for a fraction of a second, but soon enough, he’s moaning into the kiss and running his hands up into Sam’s hair. He gives a sharp tug that makes Sam gasp into his mouth – ow, that actually kinda hurt – lips quirking in obvious amusement. Sam makes a growling sound in the back of his throat and nips at Gabriel’s lower lip. Gabriel groans in response, hips coming up off the bed, cock nudging at Sam’s abs.

And that’s all it takes. They’re suddenly all over each other. Sam lowers himself until they’re almost flush, bracing himself on one arm and running his other hand all over Gabriel’s body. And yes, he starts with the goddamn pubes. Threading his fingers through the coarse tufts, twirling a strand around his finger, before moving on to Gabriel’s hips, round to work his hand under Gabriel’s ass and squeeze the muscle there. Over one hairy thigh and up the inside until he reaches Gabriel’s balls.

Gabriel is somewhat rougher, grasping and tugging and digging his fingers into Sam’s shoulders, his biceps. He wraps one leg around Sam’s back and pushes his hips upwards, almost trapping Sam’s hand between them in the process. All the while, he’s making the most incredible noises into Sam’s mouth. Highly pornographic noises, that send pulses of pure desire straight to Sam’s groin.

All the while their lips barely part, kissing deep with tongues and teeth, then backing off and just carefully exploring each other’s mouths, before diving back in with desperation.

God, he’s really not going to last like this, but he really wants... really needs...

Reluctantly, Sam pulls back and sits back on his haunches, Gabriel making a loud noise of protest at the loss of contact.

He soon shuts up when he sees the look on Sam’s face.

“I... I need you Gabriel,” Sam rasps out, voice sounding raw and wrecked. “I need... to be inside you.” He swallows around the lump in his throat.

Gabriel draws a long breath through his nose, flaring his nostrils a little and regards Sam with such heat and desire, that Sam’s pulse speeds up impossibly, heat pooling in his groin as his cock throbs with need.

Holding Sam’s gaze, Gabriel reaches for the nearest bottle of lube and lobs it at Sam’s chest.

“OW,” Sam yelps, because that actually fucking hurt.

Gabriel cringes as he pushes himself up to a sitting position and rubs gently at Sam’s chest.

“Uh sorry, didn’t mean to throw so hard.”

“You could have, you know... passed it to me,” Sam shakes his head, but he can’t help the way his lips twitch upwards. He kisses Gabriel’s forehead, just at the hairline, his hands coming up to run through the tangled curls at the back of Gabriel’s neck. “Can you... can you get in position, I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“You’ll do just fine Kiddo,” Gabriel says, looking up into Sam’s eyes and quirking his lips.

He grabs the other pillow and starts to arrange himself on the bed as Sam cracks open the lube and squirts some out onto his fingers. Sam eyes the head board.

“Uh... Gabe. You might want to shuffle down a bit.”

Gabriel cranes his neck to follow Sam’s gaze. “Ah, good point. Never been fucked by a giant before.”

Sam snorts out a laugh and shakes his head.

~~~

Gabriel has one knee drawn up to his chest and the other fallen open to the side. His head is thrown back as he moans long and loud. He’s flushed and sweaty and three of Sam’s fingers are buried deep inside his body. Sam stretches his fingers out again and draws them most of the way out of Gabriel’s hole, before bringing them together and pushing them back inside. Gabriel seems to like it best when he does that part hard and fast. His breath hitches and he bites down on his lower lip. Sam is a little mesmorized by watching the motion, watching his fingers slip inside Gabriel’s body, watching as the ring of muscle stretches around the intrusion.

When Gabriel speaks, rather than just panting out the odd moan or profanity, it takes Sam a moment to register.

“Earth... to Sam,” Gabriel pants out, “I know my hole is all sorts... of pretty... but I really need... your dick in it. Kapisch?”

Despite himself, Sam snorts out a laugh. So romantic.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “I’m ready Gigantor. Time to do the horizontal lambada.”

Sam’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be horizontal _tango_, but he let’s it slide. “You’re sure?” he asks, furrowing his brow as he carefully slips his fingers from Gabriel’s body.

The condom wrapper hitting his forehead is apparently the only answer he’s going to get. Sam thinks idly, that the term ‘pushy bottom’, might have been invented entirely due to Gabriel’s bedroom manner.

Rolling his own eyes, Sam carefully tears open the wrapper and rolls the condom over his erection, adding more lube before shuffling forward and positioning himself at Gabriel’s entrance. He pauses, looking into Gabriel’s golden eyes. After a fraction of a second, Gabriel rolls his eyes again.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation to the grand ball?”

Sam raises both eyebrows.

“Seriously? I think I’ve made my intentions pretty clear. Yes Sam. You can fuck your cock into my ass right the fuck now.”

Sam sighs. “A simple nod would have-” _Shit fuck_.

Suddenly, the head of Sam’s cock is enveloped in an incredible tight heat, Gabriel’s heels digging into the small of his back. He gasps at the unexpected sensation as Gabriel cries out in pleasure.

“What the... what the hell was that?” Sam stutters out.

Gabriel raises his head off the pillow and makes an expression that seems to say, _well if you don’t know that, I really can’t help you_. And then his heels are digging even harder into Sam’s back, at the same time as his hips push back and... Sam’s cock slides another inch inside him.

“_Fuck Gabriel!_”

“That’s the idea,” Gabriel sing songs, with a huge smirk on his face.

Sam sends him a bitchface, which he seems to actually enjoy.

“Jesus Gabriel, can you... Can you just let me... At my own pace,” Sam stutters out, finding it increasingly difficult to talk with Gabriel’s muscles clenching around him.

Gabriel huffs, “But we’ll be here till Christmas.”

Sam looks down at Gabriel’s pouty face and feels his body start to shake, giggles bubbling up from his belly. The absurdity of it. Here he is, a couple of inches inside his boyfriend’s body and they’re having an argument. Gabriel’s actually arguing while he’s got a dick part way up with ass. Gabriel gives him an incredulous look, then he’s gasping and grabbing fist fulls of the bed sheets.

Sam gives Gabriel a curious look as his laughter trails off.

“Don... don’t stop,” Gabriel breaths, “feels... real good.”

Sam just looks at him, completely dumbfounded. What?

Gabriel makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat before levering himself up on one elbow. The other hand quickly darts out to tickle at Sam’s ribs.

Sam yelps and squirms, the giggles surfacing again, while Gabriel gasps. Sam hunches in on himself and looks down and oh... His cock is bouncing up and down with the shaking of his body, pulling at the rim of Gabriel’s entrance. Oh.

“Vibrating cock ring,” he blurts out. Where the fuck did that come from?

Gabriel stops his moaning to look directly into Sam’s eyes with heated intensity.

“Fucket list”

~~~

Gabriel is breathing heavily through his nose, a lock of hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, eyes looking startled, mouth making a little ‘o’ shape.

“Are you ok?” Sam asks hesitantly, concern furrowing his brow. “I didn’t... I didn’t hurt you...?”

Gabriel just blinks at him. His eyes turn warm as he takes in Sam’s expression, a small smile spreading across his face.

“Peachy...” he breathes out. “Just gimme a sec... The Samildo... did... not... do you justice.”

“You named your... dildo after me?” Sam stutters out, finding it difficult to concentrate on speech when he’s buried balls deep inside Gabriel’s body.

The sensation is incredible, so much better than he could have imagined, Gabriel’s inner walls grasping him in a tight embrace. Sam feels an overwhelming urge to move, but with effort he holds still, waiting for Gabriel’s body to adjust.

Then Gabriel chuckles and Sam just about looses his shit as suddenly, muscles are spasming around him. He feels his eyes roll back as a strangled moan escapes his mouth. He isn’t going to last long, he isn’t going to last long at all. He’s going to come embarassingly quickly and leave Gabriel hanging...

“Hey now, none of that Kiddo,” Gabriel says softly as he reaches out and cups Sam’s cheek. His hand moves back to Sam’s neck and he pulls Sam down into a gentle kiss.

It’s incredibly, amazingly, not really awkward at all. Well at least there are some fringe benefits to their normally challenging height difference. Sam melts into the kiss, letting the feel of Gabriel’s lips and tongue, sooth away the worry. After a long moment, Gabriel pushes him back a little and tilts his head to whisper something close to Sam’s ear.

“Ready Kiddo. You can move.”

Sam levers himself up a little so he can see Gabriel’s face. Keeping his eyes locked onto Gabriel’s, he pulls his hips back a fraction, before pushing forward again. He does this a couple of times, just rocking experimentally, back and forth, watching Gabriel’s expressions carefully. His impatience, of course, soon surfaces again.

He sighs heavily. “Not gonna break Kiddo. This aint exactly my first rodeo. Come on, fuck me alr-”

Gabriel breaks off into a loud groan as Sam pulls almost all the way out, before snapping his hips forward and burying himself deep inside Gabriel’s body in one quick motion.

“Fuuuuuck... tha’s what I’m talkin about,” Gabriel gasps out inbetween moans.

Sam sets up a steady rhythm. Not as rough as Gabriel would probably like, but... he needs to... he shifts a little with each stroke, experimenting, exploring. He knows exactly when he’s found it. Gabriel throws his head back and yells out his name, followed by a string of profanity.

Sam makes sure to hit that sweet spot at least every second or third stroke. Encouraged by Gabriel’s somewhat exuberant verbal queues, by the way he fists the sheets and digs his heels into the small of Sam’s back, Sam builds up to a faster, more punishing rhythm. He isn’t quite willing to really pound into Gabriel with wild abandon, but Sam’s pretty sure Gabriel will be feeling it tomorrow morning.

He utterly loses himself in the moment. In the feel of sweat slick skin, in the sounds of Gabriel’s ragged breaths and the babble of half formed thoughts that slip from his lips. In the glorious sensation of Gabriel’s channel, gripping him so tightly, so perfectly. He looks down at the incredible sight spread beneath him: flushed skin, pert nipples, cock straining and heavily leaking against the pale softness of his belly, pupils blown wide, hair spread in a tangled halo about his head. Sam has never seen anything so beautiful, so perfect.

He’s close. He can feel the heat, the pressure starting to build in his groin. Gabriel seems too lost to attend to his own needs, so Sam reaches between them and takes hold of Gabriel’s straining erection. He lowers himself until he can feel the warmth radiating from Gabriel’s body, leaving just enough room so that he can move his hand freely, burying his head in the juncture between Gabriel’s neck and shoulder.

“_Fuck...Sam...love...god...feels...fuck_,” Gabriel babbles as Sam starts to stroke him, luxuriating in the velvet touch of the delicate skin beneath his palm.

Gabriel is as close as Sam is, he can feel it in the pulsing heat of his cock, can feel it in the muscles stretched around him, can feel it in the tension of Gabriel’s thighs, wrapped around his middle.

Just another stroke, another push forward into Gabriel’s tight heat as Gabriel’s hips slam backwards to meet him, just another pull and a twist... And Gabriel is coming apart beneath him, around him, with a desperate cry of pleasure that’s loud enough to make Sam’s ears ring, wetness spreading between them. The sensation is far more intense than Sam was expecting. Muscles contracting with orgasm, Gabriel’s channel suddenly clenching impossibly tightly around him.

Sam’s cry is almost as loud as Gabriel’s, as he soars over the edge, pulsing deep inside Gabriel’s body, stars exploding like supernovae beneath his eyelids.

~~~

“I love you,” Gabriel breathes into the stillness of the room.

Sam had almost drifted off, but he smiles and opens his eyes, squeezing Gabriel’s hand.

“I love you too Gabe,” Sam replies, voice sounding raw and raspy, even to his own ears.

Sam is lying streched out on his back, Gabriel curled against him, clean and sated, head pillowed on Sam’s shoulder, their hands clasped on Sam’s abdomen. Sam brings their hands to his mouth and kisses the back of Gabriel’s hand, once again noticing the black leather cuff.

“Gabe,” Sam says tentatively, “I ah... I noticed... earlier...” He gently unthreads their fingers and turns Gabriel’s hand over carefully, tracing over the initials with the index finger of his other hand.

“Oh this old thing,” Gabriel says, trying to pull his hand back, but Sam holds onto it.

“Gabe...”

Gabriel huffs out a breath against Sam’s skin and turns onto his back, extracting his arm from Sam and fiddling with the cuff. His cheeks have turned a little pink. Sam has seen Gabriel embarassed on only a scant few occasions, but apparantly this is one of them. He just looks up at the ceiling for a few moments and then, pressing his lips into a line, he turns back again, eyes lit up with mischief.

“Thought about getting your face tattooed on my ass, but,” he shrugs his shoulders and makes a face. “Kinda tacky. ‘Sides, can’t mess with perfection.” He swivels his hips, pressing his spent dick against Sam’s side in the process, and gives his own ass cheek a loud slap.

Sam just laughs and shakes his head. “Definitely wouldn’t want to do that.”

Gabriel sighs out a breath, brows furrowing. “It’s not... too weird is it? I don’t have to wear it.” He fiddles with the cuff again, lips slightly parted as he runs his own fingertip over the embossed lettering.

“Gabriel,” Sam says, searching out Gabriel’s gaze and holding it. He reaches out and gently takes hold of Gabriel’s wrist again. Eyes still fixed on Gabriel’s face, he runs a finger along the edge of the cuff, over the sensitive skin of Gabriel’s inner wrist. Gabriel’s breath hitches as Sam says, “Don’t stop wearing it.”

Gabriel draws in a breath through his nose, before blowing it out and twisting his lips into a wide dimpled smile. “Got something for you.”

He rolls over and hops out of bed, making a soft hissing noise and walking a little gingerly over to the bedroom door. “Just a sec.”

Sam lies back on the bed and stares at the ceiling, mind still drifting in the blissful afterglow.

His eyes are almost closed again when he’s startled by a body flopping down uncerimoniously beside him.

Sam opens his eyes to see the messily wrapped bundle that’s being thrust in his face. Smiling, he accepts the gift and sits up a little to unwrap it. Gabriel watches him, cheeks lightly flushed, fidgeting nervously. It’s such an unusual behavior from Gabriel that Sam takes note. This is something important. This means something to him.

Pulling the rest of the tissue paper carefully away, Sam looks down at the gift Gabriel has given him. It’s simple, but beautiful. A cuff, rather like Gabriel’s own, but a rich chestnut brown color. He picks is up and examines the surface of the leather. There’s a discreet clasp on the side, and as he turns the cuff around in his hands, he comes across an embossed symbol. Not Gabriel’s initials, but something a little different, an elegant design that looks ancient and beautiful.

Sam looks up at Gabriel’s face to see the uncertainty flickering in his eyes. He reaches out and cups the side of his jaw, running a thumb over the soft skin over Gabriel’s cheekbone.

“It’s beautiful.”

The corners of Gabriel’s mouth quirk upwards, but he still looks uncertain.

Sam looks back down at the cuff. “The symbol... What does it mean?”

Gabriel huffs out a breath. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to walk about with my name... you know... displayed like that... So I tried to think of a way to,” he waves a hand in the air. “Great minds think alike I guess.”

Sam quirks a questioning eyebrow at him.

Gabriel clears his throat. “It’s the sigil for the ‘horn of Gabriel’.” One corner of Gabriel’s mouth twitches upwards. “Thought it might remind you of Hallowe’en. Your tongue halfway down my throat. Wondering hands.” He smirks properly now and wiggles his fingers in the air.

Sam feels his face flush. Ah yeah wondering hands. Gabriel looks down and away.

“So, uh... There were other symbols. Others I could have chosen. Um, but I kinda liked how this one looked and...”

Gabriel is babbling again. Something he only ever does when he’s nervous. Sam leans forward and captures Gabriel’s mobile mouth in a gentle kiss. They stay like that for a few moments, kissing softly and lazily until the tension in Gabriel’s frame starts to ease.

Eventually Sam pulls back and presses their foreheads together.

“I love it... thank you,” Sam says softly. He draws back further, still brushing circles over Gabriel’s cheek bone. “Can you put it on for me.”

Gabriel’s smile is warm, his eyes crinkle at the corners and those gorgeous little dimples appear at the corners of his mouth. So beautiful.

He takes hold of Sam’s free hand, picks up the cuff and carefully wraps it round, attaching the clasp with a practiced hand, the brush of his fingertips sending shivers down Sam’s spine.

Sam looks down at his wrist, turning it over so that he can see the underside. As he looks at the symbol embossed there, his heart skips a beat. Because this really does mean something. There’s something about the gesture that hints at permanance, that speaks of forever. The thought should scare him. A few scant weeks ago it would have. But now... Now he only feels overwhelming joy. Because forever sounds like the best plan in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, this is the last proper chapter. I'll tidy up and post the very short epilogue tomorrow. Sorry for making you wait so long. I downloaded and read through my fic as a whole and there were a whole host of annoying typos etc that needed to be sorted, despite proof reading pretty thoroughly. Apologies! No doubt there's still the odd error, but hopefully it's a little easier to read now.


	26. Epilogue

Ellen sighs, hardly able to believe what she’s hearing. It’s been a damn tough week. First that veritable shit storm of an exhibition... that’s going to come back to bite her in the ass, no mistake... then reams of damn paperwork... assessments. The winter break can’t come fast enough. She’s worn out and she really doesn’t have enough energy to deal with Gabriel’s crazy notions right now.

She looks from Gabriel’s excitedly grinning face, to Sam’s flushed, nervously twitching expression and back again. These two boys are going to be the death of her. She sighs again and pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

After a long moment, she looks up at them again. She crosses her arms across her chest and regards them intently.

“Let me get this straight... You boys want to use my life drawing room to take pictures of yourself... while you... bump uglies with each other?”

“While Sam fucks me, yes,” Gabriel says enthusiastically. “Purely for artistic purposes of course.”

Ellen wonders idly if she’s actually still in bed, because this shit’s more fucked up than a David Lynch series.

“And you can’t just use either of your living accomodations because...”

“Wellllll Samcakes doesn’t want to use his humble abode incase Dean-o hears us and we mentally scar him forever.” Gabriel huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes. “Like we haven’t already. And my sweet domicile... a little on the pokey side,” he gestures at the small cut above his eyebrow, the faint bruise on his cheekbone and the rather larger bruise on Sam’s forehead.

Ellen sighs yet again. It’s not the first time she’s been witness to Gabriel’s sexual injuries. She always knows when he’s dating... comes into her life drawing sessions with hickies all over his damn body and on one occasion, goddamn deep claw marks all down his back. She’d had to improvise a partially clothed session, telling the students how important it was for them to learn how to draw fabric on figures too, pulling him aside at the end and chewing him out for completely failing to grasp his responsibilities as a model.

Gabriel is twisting his body around and pulling down the waistband of his jeans so that she can see a deeply purpling bruise there, whether she wants to or not.

“...should see my ass. Looks like I’ve been holed up in a sex club specialising in paddling.”

“Gabriel...” She sighs at the same time as Sam says, “_Jesus Gabe_.”

“Ok ok I get the picture,” She holds out her hand, hoping to stop Gabriel before he decides to drop his goddamn jeans and show her more, and rubs the other hand over her face.

When she looks back up at them, Gabriel is looking at her eagerly, while Sam looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

She doesn’t know why she says it, maybe she feels sorry for the poor boy, maybe Gabriel’s just got her wrapped around his little finger, but she huffs out a breath and asks, “What you got in mind... On a scale of 1 to 10, just how livid is Zachariah gonna be?”

“Uh... 12,” stammers Sam at the same time as Gabriel chuckles and says, “Can you say apocalyptic?! Four horsemen. Plagues. Floods. Skies on fire. The whole shebang.”

She looks from Gabriel’s broad smile, to Sam’s nervous one and back again. She might very well live to regret this. Sometimes it isn’t wise to poke the tiger so to speak, but Zachariah has her back up more than anyone has in a long, long time. And anything that’s going to piss him off that much? That she can get behind.

Lips curling into a small smile of her own, she gives a small nod of her head and says, “Ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it I'm afraid. 
> 
> But note how I've not so sneakily set a few things up for future fics. Perhaps you'd like to know what happens during winter break? Maybe you'd like to find out how Sam's senior project goes? Maybe there's a plot thread dangling, that you'd like to pull. Well fear not, I do intend to play in this little sandbox again. At the moment I've got a couple of fics that are vying for my attention, a prequel, which would deal with their meeting and falling for each other and a winter break one. I'm dithering a little at the moment as I'm not sure exactly where to start. Maybe I'll write both concurrently. I'm also dithering on the idea of adding other P.O.Vs. I'm not sure I'd find it terribly easy to write from Gabriel's P.O.V, but it would make sense to have at least a little from him in the prequel. Thoughts?
> 
> Anyway, thanks for coming along for the ride. I've enjoyed writing this enormously and I really hope you've enjoyed reading it. Thanks so much for the Kudos and comments I've received. I really appreciate it. Knowing that it wasn't just me chuckling along to myself, really spurred me on to finish the fic and I'm really glad I did. When I started this little adventure... which started it's life as a little porny plot bunny that wouldn't go away... I had no idea it would sprout wings and fly past the 75,000 word mark. I just fell in love with the world I'd created and the blossoming, off the wall relationship between Sam and Gabriel. And now I'm addicted. It probably won't be all that soon, but I promise I'll be back for more shenanigans!


End file.
